Descendant of the Challenger
by Amaya Sakaruta
Summary: Mari had no idea about her family history, other than a chronic habit of trouble making. So imagine her surprise when she stumbles across the 21st nome to discover not only her own new powers, but her family's dark history. OC-centric, AU. I'm kind of making it up as I go. Please review! T for language. (Updates probably will be few and far between.)
1. Chapter 1

**Alright, I'm attempting a Kane Chronicles fanfic with an OC. It takes place after the Red Pyramid.**

**I'm using Mari again, because ****_I feel like it. _****Only she's not Japanese in this one. **

* * *

_ Now there arose up a new king over Egypt, which knew not of God._

_And he said unto his people, "Behold, the people of the children of Israel are more and mightier than we:_

_Come on, let us deal wisely with them..."_

_Exodus 1:8 - 10_

* * *

I'd been living in New York all of two weeks before I found myself being chased by a gang of pissed-off, delinquent black girls. Now, before anyone gets all puffed up thinking I'm some kind of racist, I should point out that that wasn't an anti-African-American slur. The simple fact of the matter was that I was a white girl who'd apparently looked at them the wrong way, there was five of them and one of me, and at the moment the y sincerely wanted to kick my lily ass.

Another thing: I'm not particularly pleased that your first impression of me is one of me running for my life like some kind of damned coward. I can generally take care of myself, and let me tell you, I've been in more than my fair share of fights. I might've taken my chances against one or maybe two of them. But five? Forget it. I wasn't about to let my pride cost me a beating.

So here I am, dashing hurriedly through Brooklyn, scampering through allies and behind Dumpsters, desperately trying to think of some plan to escape. I think I might've slowed them down quite a bit when I squeezed between that building and and the rows of metal trash cans filling the the narrow alleyway a block back, but judging by the sound of metal clanging and cursing, they're still hot on my trail.

_Peachy. _I look around swiftly for places to hide. I catch sight of what seems to be a huge old abandoned factory in the middle of an industrial yard filled with scrap metal, right on the edge of the East River. I ran into it with the vague idea of hiding inside one of the extremely old bulldozers when I noticed what seemed to be a garage door.

I took temporary refuge behind an overturned crane and gave the building a closer look, heart beating frantically in my chest. It looked like it had no handle or lock. _Shit._

I glarde at it, as if the building were the cause of all my problems. _Open, you useless piece of junk! _I thought at it in exasperation, before peering back to see if any of my new friends are near. I saw one of them over where the narrow alley was, looking around wildly. I turned back to the door, in my panic and frustration continuing to urge it to slide open enough for me to slip inside. "_Open!" _I hissed, frantically motioning upwards.

Imagine my surprise when the garage door reluctantly obeyed, creaking open just enough for me to slip through the bottom.

I didn't know how it happened, and frankly I didn't care. My astonishment was quickly replaced by the feeling of rough cement scraping the small of my back as I slipped through it. The barrier obligingly slid soundlessly down as soon as I was in, as if it knew how desperate I was to hide in the...warehouse?

My mouth dropped open comically. I felt like I had been dropped into a dream or a movie, because the interior of the building did not coincide with the appearance or the holding capacity of the warehouse I had run to to hide in. What I was looking at was a humungous, richly decorated _palace._

It had pillars and a statue of some kind of chicken-headed guy that were both a good twenty feet taller than the warehouse were huge fireplaces and three levels of balconies, still transcending the usual limits of time and space. There was a swimming pool, a firepit, leather sofas and a plasma screen TV. The place was full of musical instruments and weapons, decorated with designs that some forgotten part of my brain dimly recognized as hieroglyphics. Finally, there was a snakeskin rug so large it looked as though someone had skinned the basilisk from the second Harry Potter movie.

It was, in short, the coolest freaking place I had ever seen.

"Oh my god.." I mutter dazedly under my breath, my predicament completely forgotten.

"At your service, a sly yet bored-sounding voice to my left replies. I turned to see a shorter, black-haired, quite good-looking woman, perched precariously atop the handrail to the lowermost balcony. She was eyeing me with a sort of slightly interest playfulness. "You're one of these new recruits, right?

I didn't have the slightest idea what she was talking about, but my experience tells me that when in doubt, just go along until you can figure out what's going on. It's worked for me so far. "Um...yes?"

"Huh. I never can seem to keep track of all you rugrats." And with that, the woman simply hopped from the twenty-foot-high balcony, landing gracefully on her feet and starting toward me casually as if there wasn't a thing unusual with about what she'd just done. _Is she some kind of stuntman? _I wondered wildly. _She'd probably make a good Catwoman. _

"What's your name again?" she asks me.

"Um, Mari." My full name is Marcella Ignocia Armine Delaney. I shortened it to Mari on the grounds that 'Marcella' is ridiculous. It sounds like some obscure kind of Italian food. Besides, 'Mari' means "rebellious", "bitter", and "alone" in Japanese, so it's very fitting for me.

'Ignocia'. Really.

"Well, Mari, the other recruits your age are in Magic-Solving 101. You'd better get going," she tells me lazily, pointing an elegant yet clawlike fingernail toward a door at the end of a hallway.

I nod, bewildered. _Magic Problem Solving? _I wonder, completely lost. _Is this some kind of cult? _Yet, though my panic, I could feel a slight tremor of excitement. After all, how many times before had I wished and wished for something like this to happen to me? Now I wasn't just reading an adventure story from a kid's fiction book. I was the heroine.

All I had to do was blend in.

* * *

"HOLY SHIT!" I screech as I dodge through a veritable minefield of fireballs and crazy lunatic statues trying to kill me. Only a few minutes ago I'd had the bright idea to slip in with a group of a couple other kids around my age (all wearing odd-looking linen pajamas, adding to my impression of this being some kind of cult gathering), to see what this Magic Problem Solving was all about. I was expecting to get to see some people fill up a glass of water magically or something, not end up fighting for my life.

The kid who seems to be in charge, Casey or something like that, is a black kid who looks to be about my age. He's been watching me dubiously the whole time, giving me the definite impression that I have not wholly succeeded in "blending in". However, most of the other kids don't seem bothered by my antics.

"Come on, kid!" An older one shouts. "Just use a simple spell!"

"How?!" I ask, panicked, as the only remaining statue comes at me with intent to kill. _This is insane! _I was able to see how several of the other kids defended themselves, but I have a feeling making odd hand signs and screaming crazy words isn't going to help me.

Finally I catch sight of one of the shattered statue's abandoned weapons, which for some reason didn't break into a million pieces like the rest of it did. It's nothing but a simple staff, but it's the best chance I've got. I dive for it, missing being sliced in half by split seconds.

Instincts I didn't know I had kicked in as I grabbed my weapon, rolling to a stop facing the statue. Fueled by panic and a deep-rooted stubborn refusal to be beaten, I take the initiative and lunge for it, swinging the staff as hard as I can.

Good news: I hit the statue square in the head and I see cracks start to form along it.

Bad news: As the statue crumbles, I lose all resistance and my momentum carries me forward until I end up falling on my face.

I land right on my forehead and see stars. "Ow!" I complain quietly.

Still, the other kids are apparently impressed. "Way to go! Can we go watch TV now, Carter?" A small kid who tried to defeat his own psychotic statue by summoning a penguin asks.

The boy who is apparently Carter nods, still keeping his eyes on me.

The others rejoice and make for the exit, not giving me a second glance. I try to slip out with them, but Carter stops me.

"Hey, you. I've never seen you before. What's you name?"

I start to sweat, but force myself to remain calm. "Ehm, Mari."

"Mari..." His eyes narrow. "You sure you're a recruit?"

"Of course I am! Heh heh," I laugh, trying to sound casual, although really I know I've just been found out. "Don't be stupid..."

"Yeah. Right." He closes his eyes and rubs his forehead. "I'm going to have to talk to Sadie about this. Come on."

He turns to walk away. I consider running away, but considering the powerful blast he used to annihalate his own evil statue earlier, I decide it's probably in my best interest just to follow him.

Inwardly groaning, I follow a few steps behind through the strange building.

* * *

**I hope you guys like it. This is my first Kane Chronicles story, so please review!**

**-amy out**


	2. Chapter 2

**Here I am, with another chapter. Enjoy.**

* * *

_Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, _

_walketh about, seeking whom he may devour. 1 Peter 5:8_

* * *

Carter led me around for a few minutes in search of someone before finding her in a kitchen, which other than an unusually long table and an open-topped aquarium with a white crocodile in it, seemed like a normal kitchen. I have to admit it left me with a certain feeling of anticlimax. I guess I was expecting a cult dungeon or something. Anyways, she didn't seem to notice anything unusual about me at first, offering me a handful of chips, but calling them "crisps".

British people are so weird.

Carter glares at her. "Sadie! This isn't one of the new recruits!"

The British girl -apparently called Sadie- frowns in confusion, barbeque crumbs falling off her lips and chin. (I can respect her messiness.) "So who is she?"

"I'm Mari," I answer her, popping some chips into my mouth.

"She might be a spy," Carter tells Sadie warily, looking at me challengingly. "Some magician from the House of Life. No one else could infiltrate the twenty-first nome without setting off the traps."

"_Traps?" _I scoff. "The garage door just opened! And I'm not a magician!" What the hell is a house of life? Or the twenty-first nome?

"You want us to believe you've never heard of magic before today," Carter says, souding skeptical.

"Well, yeah! I mean, I've heard of it, but I didn't think it was real..."

"So how'd you get in? Did Khufu leave the door open again?"

"Who's Khufu?"

"She claims the door opened on its own," Carter says to Sadie, ignoring that 'she' is standing right in front of him. Rude.

"So, you just walked right in?" the blonde, British-sounding girl asks, sounding baffled.

I shrug uncomfortably, feeling distinctly out of place and very, very confused. "I, uh, I needed to hide."

Carter frowns. "From what?"

"Well, these, uh, girls were chasing me."

Carter raises an eyebrow. "Why not stand your ground?"

I scowl. "There were five of them!" I protest.

He gives me an unimpressed look. Jerk. Maybe he still thinks I'm a spy. But, spy for who?

"So how'd you get the door open, anyways?" Sadie asks.

I frown. "Now that you mention it, I'm not really sure how. I was just panicking, so I told it to open, and I kinda..." I shake my hand up and down to demonstrate what I did, feeling more and more stupid. "I there a sensor on it or something?"

The two share a significant look, the meaning of which I can't even begin to fathom. "Do you think she's..." Carter asks Sadie lowly, again acting like I can't hear him.

"Probably." Sadie rubs her temples. "Blimey, I wish Amos was here."

"Who's Amos?" I ask.

"Our uncle," the girl sighs. "But that's another story...so, I suppose we ought to introduce ourselves. I'm Sadie Kane, and this dork is my brother Carter." Ignoring the dirty look said dork sent her way, she goes on, "And we're, well, no easy way to say this...we're magicians."

"Get the fuck out of here."

Sadie blinked. "Um."

Carter makes a dissaproving face, but doesn't comment. "Yeah, it was weird when we heard it for the first time, too."

I nod slowly, my mind processing this. Despite my foulmouthed expression of disbelief, I'm taking it a lot better and more calmly than I would've thought I would. Right now I'm about 80% sure this is some kind of cult, but one thing I'm sure of is that they're not lying or delusional. If you had asked me a day ago whether I believed in magic, my answer would've been a tentative 'maybe'. Now I have no reason not to believe in it. I mean, I _saw _other kids perform magic with my own eyes, not to mention the space-and-time defying building we currently reside in, the psychotic animated statues and the way that garage door opened when I told it to.

Besides which, as absurd as it sounds to the logical part of my mind, the idea of magic existing just _clicks, _like it makee sense in my gut. I've always had this feeling that there has _got _to be something more, and now I was being faced with clear-cut proof I'd been right. This was confusing, but it wasn't bad. When I was nine I didn't find a gateway to Narnia in my closet. When I was eleven I didn't get my Hogwarts letter. But now that I'm fourteen, I found a magical warehouse full of child magicians! This is awesome!

"What did you say your last name was?"

"Delaney." I know, proabbly not a smart move to be handing out personal information to people I just met, but they didn't exctly intimidate me, even though Carter kept acting all distrusting and combative and testy. They just seemed like a couple of normal kids...other than the fact that they could do magic, of course.

"Delaney..." Carter mutters, narrowing his eyes at me. "I'll have to take a look in the records..."

Sadie rolls her eyes. "Oh, come off it, that could take months. Besides, a random mortal couldn't open that barrier, and a spy would trip the alarms. She has to be blood of the pharoahs."

"What do you mean, 'no random mortal'?"

"Well, you see, mortals can't usually use magic," Sadie explains. "Only a few of them can, and not very well, but you have to have studied it, and it doesn't sound like you have..."

"Gee, thanks. What does 'blood of the pharoahs' mean? And can I have some more chips?"

Sadie offers the bag to me and I take a handful.

"Well, it seems there are these ancient gods, you know, and they just got realeased by our dad, but he's a god now, too, and we had to save the world it's all been bloody wild, but long story short, we're magicians, and you probably are too, congratulations!"

Carter facepalms.

"Get the fuck out of here," I say again. Yeah, I know, language, but nothing else sums it up as well.

"Would you please quit saying that?" Carter asks, sounding irritated.

"I do what I want."

He glares at me.

I eat a chip defiantly.

Sadie smirka.

Carter groans. "You're right, Sadie, this would be so much easier if Amos was here."

"_Who_ are ya'll _talking _about?" I ask in frustration.

Oh, damn. I did it again. Every time I let my Texan accent or lingo seep into my voice around here, people notice. Apparently it's a lot more noticeable than it seemed before. Damn Yankees.

"I didn't notice before, but you've got a bit of an accent, don't you?" Sadie asks me conversationally.

"Yeah," I answer grudgingly. "I just moved from Texas."

"Huh." Sadie eats some more chips (Are they called 'crisps' if a British person eats them?), crunching them thoughtfully. "In case you couldn't tell, I'm from England."

"I could tell. But anyways, what do you mean, _gods?" _My brain is going into fandom overload. "You mean like those old legends and myths? With Zeus, and Aphrodite, and Hera, and..."

"No, those are Greek gods," Carter cuts me off. "Those are just legends. We mean the _Egyptian _gods, and those, unfortunately, are very real."

"Egyptian gods..." I say to myself, as the details slowly start to click. I did read up on some Egyptian stuff when I was younger. I went through a phase when I thought everything ancient was fascinating, due largely to my bible study mentioning the Greeks and Egyptians. I was very pious when I was younger. Anyways, I remember some murky things about hieroglyphics, the Nile river, and a sparse few of the legends. "You mean like the sun guy, and Horus, Iris, Set, Osmosis..."

"_Isis _and _Osiris," _Carter corrects me, looking distinctly annoyed with me. Like it's my fault I had science class eighth hour and the terms are floating around in my brain.

Sadie smiles. "Anyhoo, I'm glad you know some of the legends. They're important for magic."

I nod, getting warmed up. "And they thought you had to pull your brain out of your nose after you died, and there was this one goddess who made a snake out of spit, and this guy who holds up the sky on his shoulder-"

"You're thinking of the Greeks again," Carter cuts me off. "But those legends can wait. I think Sadie's right about you. Some mortal wouldn't be seeing this place as it really is, and a spy wouldn't be this good at acting this stupid."

"Hey!"

"We should give her a test," Sadie cuts across me, just as I'm about to let loose with a string of insults. "Just to make sure."

Carter turns to leave. "You do what you want. If she can't use magic, you'll have to bring her to Bast."

I frown. "Bast? Who's that?"

"The goddess of cats. She's our chaperone," Sadie answers me casually.

I throw my hands up. "Alright. A cat goddess is your babysitter. Why the hell not?"

"That's the spirit!" Sadie tells me cheerfully. "Come on, let's go see if you're magical or not!"

* * *

"So...what am I supposed to do with this?" I ask Sadie uncertainly, looking at my piece of papyrus and palette with red, black, and gold paint, all of it looking very prehistoric, which I guess is the point.

"Just paint one of the symbols," Sadie tells me while leaning back on her bed, reading a magazine. It's hard for me to believe that I'm about to attempt to perform ancient _magic _while I'm just sitting here in a modern, nicely decorated room while a teenage girl acts completely nonchalant about it, like we're just having a sleepover or something. "But do try and pick something that won't mess up my room, yes?"

"What do you mean, mess up your room?" I scoff. "It's just a drawing."

"Well, actually it's not. I mean, it won't be-" Sadie groans. "I'm really rubbish at explaining this. Just trust me, pick a symbol."

I frown, but oblige and flip through the Egyptian-to-English hieroglyphics manual Sadie gave to me. All of these symbols seem to be for things like 'to destroy' or 'crocodile' or 'hippopatamous' or 'to drown'. What the hell am I supposed to pick, and how would any of these mess up her room, anyhow?

Tentatively I draw a couple of lines, creating a crude, messy painting of the hieroglyph for 'cat'. I put the paintbrush down when nothing happened, thinking I'd failed, when suddenly my drawing started _moving. _I stared at it in amazement as it stretched out, becoming more and more vivid, until it just _walked _off the page, a tabby cat completely solid and alive!

It slinked out Sadie's open door as I watched it, astonished.

"Well, that settles that!" Sadie announces happily. "You're magical, Mari!"

"Whoopee," I say, still staring after the cat. "This is insane, you know that, right?"

"Of course I do. As I Kane, I'm used to insane." She looks thoughtful for a second. "Hey. That rhymes."

I snort. "As a Delaney, I normally am too, but this..." I shake my head. "Damn. What are the chances I would just happen upon this place? How many blood-of-the-pharoahs people are out there, anyways?"

"Hm. You're right, it is a bit odd," Sadie agrees, looking thoughtful. "But honestly, I find the less you dwell on odd things, the easier it is to stay sane. Now come on, we have to go set things in motion...That is, if you're certain you want to study magic," she adds dubiously, looking at me closely.

I give her an incredulous look. "Are you crazy? Of course I do!" So what if I have no idea how this all works? Magic! Awesome!

Sadie smirks. "I thought you'd say so. Anyways, you'll need to move into the twenty-first nome, and enroll in BAG, and we'll need to let your parents know...by the way, won't they be wondering where you are by now?"

"Them? They haven't even noticed I'm gone," I say with complete confidence, because I know it's true. "But you mean I get to move _in _to this awesome place? Sweet!"

Sadie frowns at the they-haven't-noticed-I'm-gone comment, but doesn't contest it. "Well, we can get a room ready for you tonight. You only really need to get a few things from home, the room will take care of the rest."

"Badass. Hey, do you guys have a car? Our apartment is really far away-"

"You don't seem very surprised about any of this." Sadie tells me, almost accusingly, looking at me closely.

I roll my eyes. "Oh, god. You aren't thinking I'm some kind of spy for this House of Wives, are you?"

"House of Life."

"Whatever. Look, it's not that I'm surprised, it's just...I've spent my whole life reading about stuff like this, wishing something like this would happen to me. And now something has, and I'm just too excited to be all confused and panicking. Does that make any sense?"

Sadie nods slowly. "Yeah. I think it does."

We smile at each other, me masking any facial signals that I wasn't being truthful. While what I'd said is a reason I'm not freaking out, I'm not exactly telling Sadie _everything. _After all, I don't exactly go around bragging about what happened when I was nine.

I doubt she would believe me anyways.

* * *

"I don't get it," Carter said, frowning. "We have records of every royal Egyptian family with magical potential from ancient times to now, and I don't see a single mention of these 'Delaney's. Are you sure she-"

"Yes, Carter, I'm sure," Sadie responded boredly. "Look, the old magicians and such were bound to miss a few here and there, weren't they? Besides, no one keeps their old Egyptian names for too long. It was probably just lost in translation or something."

"Still..." He sounded uncertain.

"Just go with it, Carter. There have to be kids all over the world who are descendants of pharoahs and don't know about it. It's no big deal. Besides, we need as many new recruits as we can get."

"Hmph." It still didn't sit right with Carter. There was something strange about the girl, something unnerving about the way she easily infiltrated the twenty-first nome, without even knowing how she was doing it. Even if she was blood of the paroahs, a mortal who had never been around magic growing up should not have been able to do that. If it was because she was from a particularly strong line, why wasn't there any mention of her family in the records? It was all so unusual.

Besides, she was annoying. She just _oozed _insubordination. She even looked insubordinate, from the red streaks in her jet-black hair, to her combat boots, to her red T-shirt reading "Heaven doesn't want me, Hell knows I'll take over". Carter acknowledged he was being somewhat childish about it. Sadie was right, they needed as many new recruits as possible to help in the fight against Chaos.

But that didn't mean she wasn't suspicious.

* * *

I was able to move into Brooklyn House that night. Bast showed up at my apartment and, seeing no one was there (as per usual), contented herself with leaving a note saying I'd been accepted into the prestigious Brooklyn Academy for the Academically Gifted and that I had assured them it would be okay for me to move in immediately. Bast seemed somewhat worried that the note would seem suspicious, but I assured her my mother wouldn't care either way. After all, she does often express the sentiment that if I would just move away altogether, things would be so much easier on her. Wish granted.

The room they brought me to had the same layout as Sadie's, only with no balcony, and it looked like it had been designed with my preferences in mind. It was decorated with posters of things I had in my room back in that crappy apartment, and had a deluxe, extremely soft bed with black blankets, and an adjoining bathroom _with _a shower! Included in the dressers was a minifridge which, when I looked inside t, was stocked with Dr. Pepper, Hershey's bars, and jalepeno Cheetos. I grabbed a bag immediately and started stuffing my face. Best of all, though, was the state-of-the-art stereo system, the kind that can hook up to an iPod and hold five CDs at once. Flipping through the CD rack, I noticed that my entire CD collection is included, plus several other bands I like.

I grinned like a maniac. "This is freakin' sweet!" I shout.

The only odd, slightly inconvenient thing I can see is that, although Bast assured me the closet here would come equipped with magical copies of my regular clothes, everything red is gone. My red "Anarchy" poster is gone, too, now that I think about it. It looks like magic doesn't do red ink, which is pretty unfortunate since it's my favorite color.

Oh well. I can always bring the stuff back from my house tomorrow, or something. I put the matter out of my head, inspecting the desk and conjoined bookshelf on the opposite side of the room.

You may be surprised to hear this, but underneath my take-shit-from-no-one personality and punk rocker look, is a huge, flaming geek. I'm one of those kids who spends hours online bitching about the fact that Sirius Black died. I can spend hours reading both fiction and nonfiction books, as long as the nonfiction is about something interesting. For some reason the magical house didn't restock all of my books. It seems to be filled with completely new ones. Frowning, I pick one up and look at the title. "The Tale of Cleopatra". Oh, I see. They just want me to learn a bunch of shit about Egypt. Well, looks like that's something else I'll have to get from the hou-

I freeze completely, in shock and dread.

You should know that I don't scare easily. I can watch the goriest horror movie and not flinch. I can go through a haunted house, and by the end of it, the people hired to jump out at you will be running from _me. _I'm not trying to sound like some kind f badass, but let's just say I'm not easily unnerved.

But the ruby necklace hidden behind my bookshelf unnerved the living hell out of me.

I took a deep breath and forced myself to pick the goddamned thing up, telling myself that it's an inanimate object and I'm being ridiculous. Still, though, I touch it only gingerly by the chain and hold it away from my body. I guess it's an okay-looking necklace. In fact, if you didn't know about it like I did, you might even say it was beautiful. As it is, even if I were the jewelry-wearing type, I wouldn't wear it in a million years. It's a silver chain with a ruby symbol of a sort of small pot on the front. You wouldn't even be able to tell it was anything unless you looked at it up close. It's a really short necklace, so when you put it on it fits more like a choker. If you believe my dad, it's made out of genuine ruby and worth a small fortune. But of course, I wouldn't believe my dad for much of anything.

I stare at the thing vehemently, forcing down my panic. _How the hell did _this _get here? _I wonder angrily. But I know how.

No matter where I try to throw it out, it always returns eventually. Back in the Panhandle, I buried it under a huge mound of rusty red dirt in the middle of nowhere, and for good measure I planted a cactus over it. Within a month I found it under my pillow. Before we moved I stashed it under the carpet and put the refrigerator on top of it, and a week ago I saw it on the ground, being picked up by a homeless guy. I was relieved, hoping we would sell it and I would be rid of the fucking thing forever.

No such luck.

See, it's creepy things like this that make me more than happy to believe in magic. Maybe I can find the right spell to destroy this thing, once and for all.

Taking great care not to touch the ruby decoration on the necklace, I throw it into the back of my closet. _And stay there. _

* * *

**I am such an American. I had so much trouble making Sadie sufficiently British-sounding, I actually googled "british slang". It was largely unhelpful.**

**Also, I'm taking a bit of artistic lisence on how magic works. In old stories, some mortals who weren't related to the pharoahs but who studied magic could perform magic, so I'm writing it as such. **

**And anyone who's curious about Mari's family, just wait. Man, have I got a trip in store for you! :D**

**Anyways, please review because it makes me happy and more likely to update quicker. **

**-amy out**


	3. Chapter 3

**Ughh. I had this chapter all typed up on my dad's laptop, and then I didn't get to upload it, and I had to re-type it all from memory...le sigh. Oh well, hope you enjoy.**

**Forgot to do this: I don't own Kane Chronicles or any of the characters in it. I also don't own any song lyrics I may end up using.**

**Well, the first couple of chapters -mainly this one- may be slightly slow. I'm sorry. I happen to think that the first little while of being in Brooklyn House would be pretty boring. Just bear with me here, and please keep reading.**

**Also: in the last chapter, I made a mistake. When Mari said, "Wwat happened when I was twelve", she meant, "what happened when I was nine". It's not relevant soon, and I'll have to go back and fix it in a second, but I thought I should set that straight.**

**Forgive me.**

* * *

_I am the LORD thy God, which have brought thee out of the land of Egypt, out of _  
_the house of bondage. _  
_Thou shalt have no other gods before me..._  
_Thou shalt not bow down thyself to them, nor serve them: for I the LORD thy God _  
_am a jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the fathers upon the children unto _  
_the third and fourth generation of them that hate me... Exodus 20:1-5_

* * *

You may think, as I did, that Egyptian magic is exciting and fascinating and full of intrigue. And you'd be right.

For about ten minutes.

See, apparently before I can learn to do actual spells and stuff, they want me to take a crash course in Egyptology. I get to learn all kinds of fascinating stuff about the birthdays of obscure pharoahs and what kinds of fabrics interfere with magic. (Answer? Most of them.) I mean, sure, there are a lot of different details about precisely how Egyptian magic works, but I can basically boil it all down to this one rule: Apparenlty aincient Egyptians were right about everything.

Carter would probably shit bricks if he heard me saying that, but it's the truth. I'm lucky that I had a kind of running interest in Egyptian things from when I was obsessed for two months in the fourth grade; all I really need is a brush-up on some of the details. Basically, I operate under the assumption that if some Egyptian rumor says so, it's probably true. For example: ancient Egyptians thought the gods were real, and that you can do magic because of them. Yep, that's true. Ancient Egyptians thought that symbols, words, and images held power. They do -a good portion of magic are those things. Egyptians believed that being from a certain line of "royal" people meant you could do magic and even host the gods. Meet the nutty assortment of junior magicians at Brooklyn House, as well as yours truly.

Oh, and another thing important to know? Apparently the whole world may be eaten by a giant evil snake dude, and most of the powerful magicians in the world not only refuse to help, but also insist on trying to kill everyone who follows the 'path of the gods'. Yes, it seems that even in this world of lunatic living statues and babysitters who are cat goddesses, we still have to deal with bullshit politics. But I shouldn't worry though, because thirteen-year-old Sadie Kane and fourteen-year-old Carter McBuzzKill are on the case. Sadie gave me the whole story the other day, but I might not have gotten the full effect, since I was a little distracted by how British she sounded. Anyways, so last year there was this crazy buisness where their dad unleashed some gods (I don't know what the hell kind of gods can be held captive by humans, but whatever, I'm new to this) and their dad was Osiris, and somehow they had the gods Horus and Isis living in their heads, and that's why they're so powerful now.

The bad news is that A. The House of Life hates 'godlings', and so tried to kill Sadie and Carter several times and still hates us, and B. That Set guy also got released, and he, being the god of deserts and storms, immediately settled in the North American desert and tried to summon a storm so big it would kill everything and everyone on the continent, so he could take over the world. (Turns out that's why there were so many crazy storms all over the Midwest in 2010. Go figure.) Sadie and Carter were able to stop him, but only because his wife told them his true name (which apparently gives you unlimited power over a person or god), except it wasn't actually _her, _it was some girl named Zia who she was living inside, except it wasn't _actually _Zia, it was a statue of her, and no one knows where Zia actually is.

You still with me? Good.

So, super-evil guy kills their dad, wants to kill millions, etcetera, etcetera. Sadie was all ready to blow this charmer to kingdom come, but just in time she got this anime-like burst of insight where she realized she wasn't supposed to kill Evil Guy after all. Turns out that actually the only reason he wanted to kill _everyone, _as opposed to just a few thousand to keep us puny mortals in line, was because an even eviler guy, by the name of Apophis, was influencing his decisions and making him, I don't know, more of a diablolical prick than before. So she let him go, but first she made him _pinky promise _that he wouldn't do any more evil stuff. Sadie assures me that he "probably almost definetly won't" try and kill any of us, since after all, she does have that secret name.

See, this is why if you're going to try and take over the world, you really oughta take your time and make sure you have a really good plan. Otherwise you could forget vital information like, say, your wife has devestating information on you that could give a then-twelve-year-old unlimitetd leverage over you. That could really put a kink into your diabolical world domination scheme.

Sorry if I don't seem to be taking this seriously enough. I just can't wrap my head around it sometimes. It still feels like I'm just an actor in an elaborate play, like at any second I'll blink and it'll all turn out to be a big joke and I'll go back to my own boring, depressing life.

One thing that does feel real, however, is the magic. Carter told me I'm not experienced enough to get my own wand and stuff, but they have given me a few tentative practical lessons just so I can see what magic feels like to perform. He put two strings on the table and taught me how to do the spell for "join", Hi-nehm, to bring them together.

The first time I tried, absolutely _nothing_ happened.

Carter gave me some pointers and I tried again.

The second time, one of them twitched, but that's it.

I kept at it for so long that Carter pulled out a magazine and started skimming it, mumbling from time to time, "It's all in the pronounciation...focus..."

Evantually, I got fed up with trying to join strings, so I tried the command after that. Ha-di. "Destroy".

This one worked first try. Problem? I was so drained by it that I collapsed, hit my head on the table, and blacked out for three seconds.

Also, I didn't expect it to actually work, so I ended up accidentily destroying some ancient scroll, which apparently, was needed.

Carter gave me quite the dirty look for that.

Speaking of which, damn if Carter hasn't been watching me like a _hawk. _It's like he thinks he's the only one who knows I have a secret habit of punching babies, and by God he's going to put a _stop _to it. I feel like I'm being punished for a crime I committed simply by being alive, a feeling I know all to well and I've never liked. See, for as long as I can remember I've kind of been the black sheep, and that's not just an ironic comment on my black hair and gothic style. I'm not good with people. I'm antisocial, belligerent, obnoxious, violent, rude, insubordinate, and foul-mouthed. I don't suffer fools well, I don't let people tell me off or tell me what to do, and if you get in my way I _will _stomp you into the ground. As long as I can remember I haven't had many friends. Even when I was younger, before I become cynical pissed off at the world, I was that weird kid who refused to do anything but read in the corner for hours during playtime.

Bottom line: I don't like people, and they don't like me.

Especially not Carter.

Carter gives me the impression that he takes himself too seriously. He's always got this very intense look on his face, and I get the feeling he doesn't suffer fools well, either. We don't get along. We're always watching each other out of the corner of our eyes; him waiting for me to try something, and me waiting for him to back the hell off. It's like there's this indefinable enmity between the two of us.

Sadie, on the other hand, is very cool. Blondie, as I inisist on calling her (no matter how many times she threatens to burn me alive for it), is rebellious, sassy, and easy-going, all of which being things I value in a person. It's hard to believe her and Carter are actually related. I would never, ever have guessed they were brother and sister, not least because Carter is black, with dark hair and eyes, and Sadie is white, pale, with blue eyes and blonde hair. Go ahead, call me shallow, see if I care. Taking their differing personalities into account, it's kind of surprsing. Anyways, she strikes me as the kind of person I could maybe tolerate for extended periods of time.

As for the other recruits, one of the most notable is definetly Walt. He's tall, black, muscular, powerful-seeming, very cute, and has it _bad _for Sadie. Seriously, the amount of flirting between the two is enough to make you gag. I hope they get together soon because I've only been here a week and I can't take much more of this. Anyways, Walt seems down-to-earth and laid back, although he does usually have like ten neckalaces on at once.

Another notable person is Cleo. She's kind of like me in that she'd prefer to read books than talk to other humans, but unlike me in that she looks like she'd fall into a puddle of quivering glue if I so much as poked her. I glared at her one time, just because I have a habit of glaring at everyone by instinct, and I swear she jumped a mile and scurried out of there. (Of course, Carter had to see it, earning me another dirty look. Douche.) I keep wondering if I should try and befriend her, since she seems like she might be into nightlong geek-a-thons, but antisocialness will probably win out. I don't really mind Cleo, even though she gives the impression of being a human bunny rabbit.

Now, Jaz, that's another story. Her real name is Jasmine, but she hates to be called that. She's a total Barbie doll, and she's so nice it's a bit nauseating, to tell the truth. Not that it's really her fault, but I hate it when people are all nice and sweet and fake, and I hate it even _more _if they're actually sincere. Bleh. Spare me from the altruisms of the general public.

There are several other recruits of varying ages, but the only other people whose names I've bothered to remember are Felix, otherwise known to me as the Penguin Kid, and Bast, the cat-goddess-supervisor.

I'm not sure how I feel about either of those two.

I scowl at the TV, at the moment playing that total shit of a movie, _Happy Feet. _Penguin Kid picked it, surprise, surprise. I wish I could bring this scroll I'm reading (recreational reading, some old Egyptian story lost to everyone but the lucky few who studied magic) to my room, but Carter won't allow anyone -coughcoughmecough- to bring books into their rooms. I'm contemplating whether Carter seriously believes I have some kind of personal vendetta against his library books, when Jaz turns around next to me on the couch, gives me the hugest smile, and says -practically _spewing _bubbles and rainbows and puppydogs, "Hi! My name's Jaz! You're new here, aren't you? Mary, right?"

"_Mari," _I correct her with irritation. "I moved in a few days ago."

She nods. "Oh yeah, you were the girl who stabbed that shabti to death. Nice moves, especially for a newcomer."

Dear God, please stop being so nice to me. "Thanks," I mutter. "I was scared to death, if that matters."

She laughs. "We all feel that way the first couple of weeks. So, when is Bast going to sign you up at BAG?"

Why do you keep making me interact with you? "Where?"

"Boston Academy for the Acedemically Gifted," she fills me in, smiling sweetly. "We all go there."

Please leave me alone. "I don't know how 'gifted' I am..."

"We can use magic to make you look talented, if you aren't."

"Okay." Oh, brand new gods I just learned about and feel very conflicted about believing in, let the conversation be over now.

Maybe because Jaz despises the movie as much as I do, she keeps trying to keep the conversation alive. "So, do you know which-"

"Path I'm going to follow?" I practically snarl. "No. I don't. Actually, I pretty much suck at all kinds of magic that exist at the moment, and I'm also trying to read, so..."

"Oh." Jaz looks somewhat hurt. "Okay. Um, I'll just...sure."

I smile sarcastically and nod, going back to the scroll. I girl with dark reddish brown hair cut to her shoulders, a pair of dark green eyes and tanned skin, wearing a black T-shit, gives me a dirty look over my rudeness.

I look her in the eyes, challenging, until she looks away.

* * *

"Well, here we are!" Bast declares flamboyantly as she steps out of the car in front of the huge, elegantly-decorated Brooklyn Academy for the Acedemically Gifted. We came here in a car that I'm almost poistive she's stolen, with Bast having magically changed her appearance (apparently it's called a "glamour") so she looks more like someone who could pass for my mom (her black hair slightly less thick, her eyes my same dark brown and less catlike, her nose longer and more human-looking) and less like a gymnastics/karate teacher.

I grunt unenthusiastically, climbing out of the car. "Let's get this over with."

Bast smirks at me as we walk in. "Well, aren't we just a little ray of sunshine," she comments. "If you had a tail, it'd be twitching, you know."

I imagine having cat-ears that would flick in irritation right about now. "Yeah, well, I hate new schools."

"You hate everything."

"You don't know anything about me, cat."

"You'd be surprised, _mortal." _

I can tell she's kidding, but I don't deign to smile.

We walk in through the principal's office. Already I can fell feel the secretaries taking in my degenerate-punk clothes and the choppy red streaks in my hair and my deliberate overuse of eyeliner. They give each other a smug look, like, _This kid won't last a day. _

And _that's _what spurs me to step forward, give my biggest, most threatening teeth-baring smile, and say in a deceptively sweet voice, "Hi! I'm Mari Delaney! _So _excited to be going to school here!"

Bast gives me a strange look, but takes over, handing the secretaries blank papers, which apparently are impressive to them, for some reason. They wave us into the principal's office.

I give them a smug look over my shoulder.

The principal greets us amiably, shaking our hands. I always make it a point to give people good, strong handshakes, to shatter any idea of female daintiness they might have fluttering around in their heads. He recieves it well, which I respect.

"Most of our students have a special talent..." he mentions.

"Yeah, I got that," I say, repeating what me and Bast had rehearsed in the car. "I can sing."

"Oh, yes, she's got the most _spectacular _voice!" Bast gushes. "We're trying to get her noticed by a talent scout-"

I cringe. Apparently Bast is taking the role of annoying-embaressing-parent a bit too seriously.

* * *

The principal grabs a few other school officials and ropes them into following us into the auditorium. The principal waves his hand from me to the stage, where sits one solitary microphone. I shrug, and jump onto the stage, ignoring the stairs, as the officers settle in near the front, Bast hanging back in the shadows of the auditorium.

I grab the microphone and fiddle with it until it's on. I catch Bast's eyes, and they gleam with their catlike luminosity as she smirks at me. _Don't mess this up, kid, _she seems to be saying.

I smirk back. Because I don't look it, but surprisingly enough, I have a great singing voice.

It almost makes up for being absolute shit at magic so far.

I take a deep breath. Since I'm singing accapella, I need to choose a sort of slow song I can show off my voice with. I swallow. "_My hand are searching for you,_

_My arms are open t'wards you,_

_I fell you on my fingertips,_

_My tongue dances behyind my lips for you..." _Damn, I really hope I'm good enough that they let me in. I mean, they probably hear tons of kids with good voices, this is a prestigious school in New York City, for chrissake. If they say sorry, look for a school elsewhere, I'll be very embaressed.

"_This fire rising through my being_

_Burning, I'm not used to seeing you._

_I'm alive, I'm alive!_

_I can feel you, all around me..."_

I sing the verses, pouring my soul into it. No matter how stoic and aloof and, well, bitchy, I may seem in regular life, as soon as I'm on stage ans singing, all that goes out the window. I love losing myself in music. It's like everything, every problem me or anyone has ever had, is gone, completely gone, leaving only the high of music. "_Take my hand I give it to you, now you own me, all I am,_

_You said you would never leave me _

_I believe you I believe..."_

When the song is over no one says anything, so I kind of grin and give a confident sarcastic half-bow, and hop right off the stage, even though I'm worried they're going to tell me there's no way. One thing I've learned about life, is that no matter how totally positive you are that you are a complete shit, you act like you are the coolest cat who ever graced the earth with your presence. People are always on the lookout for weakness and fear, and you can never let them see it. Confidence is life.

Hesitation is death.

I walk -_strut_- pass the teachers, toward Bast. She looks impressed. "Heh. Diva. I like it it."

"How'd I do?"

She smiles and nods toward the group of teachers as one of the elderly women makes her way toward us.

"The principal would like me to congratulate you on your entry into Brooklyn Academy for the Acedemically Gifted," the lady says, giving me a huge, kind smile. "Also, I was wondering if you'd be interested in particpating in our talent show next month?"

* * *

BAG is alright. It's full of rich kids and divas, but it's alright. Not really different from any other school.

I keep to myself mostly, just like anywhere else. I glare at anyone who stands where I want to be walking, and they move. I slam my locker so loud it draws everyone's attention. I have my earbuds in so often after a week of school I still don't know anyone's names.

And I'm just fine with that.

One day when I'm standing at my locker, minding my own buisness, Sadie approaches me and mouths something at me. Well, probably she was actually saying something, but since my music was blasting so loud, she might as well have. I ignore her.

She raises an eyebrow at me, then plucks my earphones right out of my ears.

I glare at her. "What the hell, Sadie!"

She smirks at me. "Don't ignore me, Mari!"

I sneer at her. "What do you want?"

"Why don't you talk to anyone?"

"I don't like people."

She rolls her eyes. "Well, of course you're not going to if you walk around trying to scare everyone out of your way."

"Who says I'm trying? If people want to be scared of me, that's their buisness."

Sadie rolls her eyes at me again. "You oughta give people a chance, Mari."

"I do what I want."

"You can't just blow people off like that."

"Watch me, Blondie." I shove my earbuds back in, singing aloud at the top of my lungs. "WHEN YOU SEE MY FACE HOPE IT GIVES YOU HELL, HOPE IT GIVES YOU HELL!"

* * *

I had my first of many detentions by the end of the second week.

* * *

**So, there it is. There's the new chapter. Please feel free to review the crap out of it.**

**-amy out**


	4. Chapter 4

**What's up, Amy here with another update.**

**You know, I was really disappointed with the number of reviews last time -namely, one. Come on, guys, I know at least a handful of people are reading this. Please review! Otherwise I don't feel motivated, you know?**

**This chapter is quite a bit longer than the others, hope you enjoy. Lyrics from Till I Collapse by Eminem.**

* * *

_Refrain from anger, and forsake wrath! Fret not yourself; it tends only to evil._

_Psalms 37:8_

* * *

'_You can't learn magic by reading books and studying. You have to learn through practice, trial and error.'_

In my case, a bit of trial and a hell of a lot of error.

I scowl at the ceiling as I push the weights up, arms burning with the strain. I think about the pathetic result of my first official magic lesson with a real wand.

"Everyone is talented at different things," Sadie explained as we set up the practice room. "It's the same way with magic. Of course, there's are some things every magician should be able to do, and you'll need this equipment to do it."

She laid out said equipment and went over every piece of it with me, explaining what each was and what it was for. "This is your staff," she said, motioning at what looked like it should've been a wand. "It's your primary offensive weapon. Can do some pretty cool stuff with this. This," she pointed at something that looked like a boomerang, is for defense magic. And _these," _she said, pointing at a box full of wax and paintbrush styluses, "are the contents of your magician's box. You'll need them for several more complicated spells."

I nodded.

"Today, I just want you to try and summon something. That way" she explained, "you'll be able to summon these things from the Duat."

Seeing my blank look, Sadie launched into an explanation of the Duat. It was very confusing, but fascinating. Have you ever seen the movie _Insidious? _It's kind of like that, only not as creepy. She even showed me how she could reach in through the Duat to summon her staff. It looked like her whole hand was being chopped off.

"It's like a parallel universe," I say in awe.

"No, it's like _several _parallel universes," Sadie corrected me. "Layers and layers of the Duat, stretching down into infinity."

"That's so cool!" For some reason, the idea didn't confuse or bother me. It made sense. It explains why sometimes you get the feeling someone's watching you, or a tingly feeling on your skin, or the downright _certainty _that someone's behind you, staring at you. It's not your imagination; it's somebody in the Duat peering at you, wondering why you're not answering their questions or whatever, and then realizing you're not one of them and going on your way. I shiver. There could be ghosties like that in this very room...

We practiced summoning things for a while, and then a few spells. The only the I was able to do successfully and relatively easily was summon a baseball bat, which I guess sure will come in handy if an enemy magician or ancient god wants to settle our differences by playing a good, wholesome game of softball. Everything else I tried either didn't work at all, didn't work well enough to actually use, went wrong and did something other than I wanted, or backfired completely. Literally. Sadie had to put my hair out with a spray of water from her own, obedient wand.

Also, I ha-died a huge hole in the wall. I got lightheaded but didn't pass out this time. So, I guess that makes two things I can do: play baseball and blow shit up.

Sadie was all encouraging about it, but I know she was patronizing me. I mean, I must look so stupid and pathetic to her; when she was twelve, she saved the entire world. And here I am, failing miserably to even do a simple task like make a ball of fire float in my hand.

_Clank. _I finish the set and let the bar fall back onto the metal rack. At least this is one thing I can do: work out. Train physically. Let off steam. Otherwise I'm pretty sure I'd end up kicking Penguin Kid to kingdom come next time I see him. Besides, I figure that no matter what kind of magic might come into play, I need to be as good as possible at hand to hand combat. At the moment, I'm still nowhere near strong enough to my satisfaction.

Don't think I'm weird for this, but I hate that I was born a girl. like, I really hate it. It's like I have an inner sense for how strong I am versus how strong it's normal to be - how strong a boy my size would be. And I'm at about one third, if that.

It's infuriating.

My muscles burn and I lay still, staring at the ceiling for a moment as I breathe heavily and mouth along with the lyrics to my workout soundtrack. "_Till the roof comes off, till the lights go out_

_Till my legs give out, can't shut my mouth_

_Till the smoke blows off, am I high? Perhaps_

_Imma rip this shit, till my bone collapse..."_

Carter gave me a bit of a strange look when I asked if they had a gym. Apparently magic doesn't require muscle tone and stamina -even combat magic increases your size and strength by so much that your actual abilities are irrelevant. I don't care. The way I see it, there is no situation in which being stronger and leaner wouldn't come to your advantage. Besides, in moments like this I need to go and push my muscles to the brink of exhaustion until my anger has cooled. I need to work out and lift weights and run on treadmills until I can barely crawl away.

Until I collapse.

I pull myself up off the bench, making my way toward the punching bag. For a place without much users, it's pretty nice. I vaguely wonder if it appeared only because I wanted it to, like the Room of Requirement in Hogwarts. There are new-looking treadmills, weights of every kind, stereos and fridges for water, even what looks like yoga equipment.

As if.

I wrap my fists in the protective fabric provided. I guess real boxing gloves are un-Egyptian or something. I take my stance in front of the bag, before going on and putting my year of kickboxing lessons to good use. Punch kick punch punch punch. I relish the savage feeling of lashing out against the bag, the physical exertion it takes. After a moment I slow down, matching my hits to the beat of this song, then the next, powering through the pain.

It's fucking frustrating, not to mention embarrassing. Magic simply _will not _work for me the way it's supposed to. Yeah, sure, the ha-di thing worked, if you call making an explosion the size of a couple particularly powerful firecrackers at the expense of an entire day's worth of energy 'working'.

Sadie tried to be supportive, make it sound like small explosions and being able to summon a handful of potentially useful items was all I needed to do. Still, I could see the exasperated look in her eyes, like she was thinking, "Seriously? You can't even fill up a cup of water? You can't even turn your staff into a snake?"

Turning a staff into a snake. I watched a young blonde girl with ratty jeans re-enact a pivotal bible verse. It was _eerie. _

That's another thing. I never thought about this before, but when re-reading Exodus (I've always liked the story, and now with this Egyptian shit it's even more fascinating) I came across the verses condemning magic. I was so excited, I hadn't even thought about the fact that doing magic is some kind of huge sin. Not big enough to be in the Ten Commandments, but big enough to be listen in Revelations as one of the things humanity would be damned for.

Besides, throughout the Bible, they talk about Egypt like they're the most evil civilization ever. They talked more shit on Egypt and Sodom than on Rome, the guys who actually killed Christ. It's like...I'm betraying my faith to be here.

But how could I walk away, knowing I can use magic, knowing that Armageddon is coming and these people need all the help they can get to stop it? How could I just sit by helplessly while others fight, because of a rule written thousands of years ago, by people who thought that women should be little more than property?

I've been wrestling with my emotions for days, without being able to choose either way. Even if I did decide to quit magic, would I even be able to? Would Carter and Sadie track me down, demand that I come back to Brooklyn House to be under their control (because no matter how things look, I'm perceptive enough to tell that this place isn't quite as relaxed as it seems)? Would I even have the willpower to give this life up, no matter the dangers that come with it, in exchange for the awful one I left behind?

I don't know, so I put the entire thing out of my mind. After all, if I can't improve my meager skills in magic, it's not going to matter either way.

By the end of the lesson, I have a feeling Sadie was feeling as discouraged as I was. "Keep your head up, huh, Mari?" she'd said as I trudged, defeated, from the practice room. "You're still learning."

Learning can't give me talent, I wanted to say. But instead I gritted my teeth and stomped away to ask Carter if there was a gym.

And here I am, legs shaking, heart racing, lungs burning, head pounding, arms begging me to relent as I finish my five minutes of boxing. I stand there, staring at the black punching bag and panting as sweat drips off my body.

_This is stupid, _I tell myself. _Sadie's right, it's ridiculous for me to expect to be able to match up to the rest of these guys when I've only been here for two weeks. This is just like in anything else. It's not about how much you can do, it's about how far you can get with what you can._

I'm not the smartest kid in school, but I make straight As by making sure I have a spot next to the brown nosers so I can copy what I can't just guess -which is usually about seventy percent of the curriculum. I'm not rich, but I can con my way into getting free meals and tickets to movies. I'm not stronger or even as strong as a guy, but I can kick the ass of any that wants to try and fuck with me by exploiting their arrogance and bulk, making them suffer for it. I'm not above taking cheap shots, and I don't particularly care if what I do is wrong. I know my strengths and my weaknesses, and I use them to my advantage by being resourceful and thinking about every available option. Magic won't be any different.

I nod to myself, deciding that I should probably call it quits, retire to my room, grab some snacks and think this through. Feeling sorry for myself isn't productive. Brainstorming is. Sometimes.

* * *

"What I need," I say out loud to myself, "is to make something I can fight with until I can do spells the right way..." Like in books when the main character gets a magical sword or something. It wouldn't do for a lot of things, but most of the spells I see Sadie do at first look like streams of magical light flying toward their victim, not too fast to dodge...or to block. I picture myself with a samurai sword, smacking spells away from me...

Or maybe...a baseball bat?

I sit up straight. Could that work? Could I turn that bat into some kind of, magical weapon?

I close my eyes and extend my arm, imagining a hole in space in front of me, a tear in the fabric of reality, and reach through it. The temperature therein decreases, and I grope around for my bat. My fingers closing around the handle and I pull it out of thin air. I examine it, swinging it experimentally.

Yeah...this could work. If I could somehow make it magic-resistant, I could bat spells out of the air. It wouldn't even be hard, with my years of softball. I could even smack people in the heads if I can get close enough. There aren't very many physical threats that can't be eliminated with a good solid metal baseball bat.

I grin. This could work.

I wouldn't mind getting a reputation as a hellion who fights with a bat, either.

* * *

"Wow, honey. Are you sure you're in the right school?"

I roll my eyes into my locker before I even turn around. Oh, joy. It's these idiots.

Every school has them; some group of too-big-for-their-britches bullies who think they're untouchable and need to be brought down a few pegs. They're not really a problem, but still, I don't need this. My day was going just fine without it.

I shut my locker and turn around to see a group of three girls, all with ridiculous makeup, expensive clothes, and god-awful huge hair.

I scowl. "Who the hell are you?"

The Asian girl in the middle smiles. "I'm Drew Tanaka. These are my friends, Sasha and Morgan." She goes on: "BAG is supposed to be prestigious, and well, those clothes look like you got them from a gothic hobo."

I give her a skeptical look. "Really? Clothes insults? Is that what we're going? That wasn't even clever."

She blinks. "Excuse me? Do you know who I am?"

"I'd hazard a guess at, 'some bitch'."

That gets her going. She steps up to me, trying and failing to be intimidating. "I'm Drew, and I _own _this school. You'd better watch your step, or-"

"Okay, great. Well, I'm Mari, and you can stay away from me with your bullshit. Later."

I turn around to leave.

"Where do you think you're going?"

I look over my shoulder. "Home. That was the last bell, or hadn't you noticed."

"We're not through with you yet!" one of the groupies shouts.

I laugh out loud. "What, you wanna fight? Got brass knuckles in those little designer purses?"

The leader of their pathetic little troupe gapes at me, shocked. "F-fight? What are you, some kind of...delinquint?"

I grin and step closer to her, taking full advantage of the three inches of height I have over her. I stare down at her with my maniac grin while she looks up at me with shock and maybe just a little bit of fear. The halls are empty except for us three, and no one's here to stop me. Why beat around the bush? "You have _no _idea. Here's the deal, princess," I say, stepping closer to her every time she backs away. "I don't care how much money you have or how fashionable you dress. I don't care who you're friends with or what you say about me to these other little bitches. I don't care about the rules, and I don't care how unladylike it is to knock someone's teeth in."

Her eyes look so afraid, I want to crack up laughing. It makes me feel...powerful. I continue: "See, you may think you're intimidating, but all you are is some spoiled rotten, insecure fucking _bitch _whose stupid rich parents never spanked her, and if you get in my way, I _will _knock you the _fuck _out."

"What? Who the hell do you think you are?" she asks, acting angry. Aw, she's not used to people with backbone.

"I think I'm about to be the first person to kick your sorry ass if you don't leave me the hell alone. Consider this your last warning: say what you want about me, but stay out my way. Or I'll make you fucking _cry. _I'll send you to the hospital. And I'll have fun doing it._" _I grin again. She's positively _shaking, _and her friends are looking from her to each other like they don't know what else to do. I look at them. "That goes for you two assholes, too. If I were you, I'd learn to grow a pair and your own brain while you're at it. This bitch," I say, pointing at the head of Team Rocket here. "is going to get you into trouble. Now, shoo. I have better things to do today, you know?"

I stare at them. They don't move.

I act like I'm about to punch her.

She jumps.

I laugh out loud. "See you later, princess." I point down the hall.

She glares at me vehemently before taking off, her two groupies behind her.

What a bunch of bitches. I turn to leave, too, thinking, _I wonder if she would've even fought back if I hit her. Does she even know how to fight?_

I really hope this is the end of it. I don't have time for this mean girl bullshit, and I really don't want to actually fight them. It would be like punching a retarded ten-year-old. Who does that? Not me. I do have morals, after all.

* * *

"Er...yes, I'll talk to her about it," Bast is saying into the phone as we sit around the table eating that night. She pauses. "Yes, I'll make sure of it."

I look at her, raising an eyebrow. Who could be calling that would make Bast sound like that? She hangs up and looks at me tiredly. "Mari, dear, I don't know whether to congratulate you or strangle you."

I raise an eyebrow. "Neither?"

"Who was that?" Carter asks, looking suspicious.

"Your school principal called," Bast answers him, taking a seat.

"Shit," I say. Felix's eyes pop out.

"Language," Carter snaps.

"Bite me, Carter."

He glares at me. I glare back.

"Put your claws away, kittens," Bast chides. "Anyways, it appears Mari has had something of a misunderstanding with a girl named Drew."

"Oh, her? She's bloody awful," comments Sadie, who has been listening to the rest of the conversation with mild interest.

"Yeah, well, I think we understand each other pretty well now," I tell Bast. "So it's no big deal."

Bast raises an eyebrow at me. "Apparently she called the principal, who called us. They said you threatened her, said you would -what was it? 'Send her into the hospital and have fun doing it'."

Shit fuck. "That I did," I say, because why not?

Carter glares at me. "What were you _thinking_?" he snaps. "They're mortals!"

I roll my eyes. "It's not like I was using magic on them. I didn't even touch them."

"It doesn't matter!"

"They deserved it!"

"Yeah, and you deserve to be smacked, that doesn't mean I'll do it!"

"Carter!" Sadie gasps, hitting him on the arm.

Penguin Kid's eyes are growing steadily bigger. I jump up, letting my chair fall. "Why not, Carter? Let's go. I'm not scared of you, you might be better at magic, but I can take you in a fistfight. You wanna go outside, or what?"

"That's enough!" Bast shouts, slamming her hand onto the table. I jump, seeing the anger in her eyes, and remember that she's not just our babysitter, she's also a powerful goddess.

Bast glares from me to Carter, who by this time is at his feet as well. "We will _not _fight amongst ourselves!" she hisses angrily. "Then Chaos wins!"

I bite my tongue against the retort I wanted to fling. Bast goes on: "You two are going to go outside and make up, and you are _not _going to fight!"

I glare at her, then look at Carter. He meets my eyes, then we both look away stubbornly. I shuffle my feet.

"NOW!"

We jump, then turn to trudge out of the room.

We go out onto the balcony, where we stand in silence, still refusing to look at each other. Still, I can tell how hard Carter is trying to control himself. He has this idea that he has to be the grown-up, mature one all the time because everyone looks to him to be in charge. It's one of the things that bugs me about him. Does he think he's too good to get mad and lose his temper like everyone else? Is he even a teenager at all? What's the _matter _with this guy?

After a few minutes, Carter asks in a very controlled voice, "Why did you do that?"

I make a face, still not looking at him. "They tried to talk shit on me."

"So you threatened to send her to the _hospital_?"

"Kids like that, you have to scare them off," I tell him. "Otherwise they'll keep fucking with you, and I don't need to deal with the likes of her."

"That doesn't excuse what you did!" he finally snaps. "You can't just push people around like that because you don't want to _deal with them."_

"Why not?" I ask, turning to look at him. "How I take care of my problems is none of your goddamn business. Even if I did beat them up, Carter, it _still _wouldn't be any of your business. You know why?"

"Why?" Carter practically shouts.

"Because you're not, my, fucking, _mother!" _I shout at him.

"You can't do things like that!" Carter shouts back.

I scoff. "What are you going to do? Ground me?"

He glares at me vehemently. I glare back.

"You realize I could blast you right off of this balcony, right?" Carter snaps.

"The hell you will," I return, pushing past him dismissively.

"Stop!" he snaps.

I turn around and flip him off. "Go to hell."

He's so mad he's practically spitting, but apparently he can't think of anything else to do or say. I stomp off.

Everyone in the kitchen stares at me as I walk back through and sit down at my spot. No one says a word as I scarf down the rest of my dinner, spearing my food with my fork like it's the flesh of my enemies, chomping on the meat like it's the neck of the human race. I finish, toss my dishes into the sink loudly, and storm off to my room.

* * *

Carter was _livid. _

He paced around his room angrily, trying to control himself while Sadie flipped through a magazine casually. "She is unbelievable!" he bursted out. "Arrogant, insubordinate, troublemaking, bratty-"

"Oh, calm down, would you?" Sadie responded boredly. "She doesn't take crap from people like Drew. That makes her okay in my book."

"It sounds like she had those girls scared for their lives," Carter argued.

"So? She didn't actually hurt anyone," Sadie countered. "I say, if all she did was knock Drew down a few pegs, more power to her."

Carter scowled. "She has no respect!" he snapped. "No self-restraint."

"Oh, I see," Sadie said, as if she'd just had a huge realization. "This isn't about Mari losing her temper at school. This is about her giving you backtalk."

"No it's not!" Carter insisted.

"Yes, it is. Thing is, Carter, you've become a bit of a control freak. I'm not saying she wasn't out of line," she cut him off when he opened his mouth to retort. "I'm just saying that you'll probably have to get used to some, what did you call it? Insubordination. It's not like you're officially in charge around here, anyway." Sadie left unsaid what they were both thinking: Carter might not be _officially _in charge, but as the oldest of the two most powerful magicians there, and the one who had been asked to take care of things while Amos was here, he was still very much _un_officially in charge, and there is no way Mari wouldn't have picked up on that. Besides which, Carter was far from a tyrant, and for Mari to have such a hard time dealing with his discreet authority said volumes about her attitude towards authority in general.

Secretly, Sadie was a little concerned herself. Not that she would admit it, but she sensed Mari was something of a loose cannon. A loaded pistol. She gave the impression that if she really wanted something, she would just take it, lawful or no, and that she wouldn't take directions or orders. And there was just something else about her...the way she carried herself maybe, or the way she spent literally all of her free time alone and secluded from everyone else, or maybe it was just the hard look in her eyes. The look like she'd seen things you couldn't even imagine, like no matter how tough you thought you were, she was worse.

Sadie was Mari's same age. She had lost two parents and a home in London. She'd hosted a goddess and fought the god of evil. And even she knew she had never had a look in her eyes like that.

Sadie felt instinctively that something had to have happened to Mari. Something that made her the way that she was, hard and cold and lonely.

Sadie didn't like it. "Maybe I can get though to her," Sadie said suddenly. Carter looked at her in shock. Sadie smiled. "She might be a little more polite to someone who's not threatening to smack her."

"I didn't _threaten_-"

"Carter." She cut him off. "I'll handle it."

* * *

I hear a knock on my door as I lay on my bed, reading. "Come in!" I call, over the sound of my metal music blaring.

Sadie opens the door, wrinkling her nose at the music. She takes it upon herself to turn the stereo off.

I scowl. "What do you want, Blondie?"

She glares at me. "I told you not to call me that."

"Yeah, I don't care. What's up?" I ask, smiling a little so she'll know I'm kidding.

She plops herself down on my bed. "So, were you really ready to duke it out with Carter?"

"Damn straight," I reply. "I'm really getting sick of that guy."

"Yeah, I know my brother can be a useless idiot," Sadie agrees. "But he means well."

I wrinkle my nose. "Whatever." I go back to reading.

"Would you really have hit Drew?" Sadie asks, a second later. "She's horrid, but it wouldn't exactly be a fair fight, would it?"

I snort. "I knew they didn't have the balls for that. But if they had tried to swing at me, sure."

Sadie gives me a look. "Do you..."

"What?"

"Nothing." She bites her lip. "I'm kind of worried about you, Mari."

I raise an eyebrow.

She goes on: "You never talk to anyone, here or at school. You're always so...angry. Is something wrong?"

I smile bitterly. "Don't worry about me, Sadie. Seriously, don't bother. If you're going to be concerned about something, be concerned about my inability to do magic."

"Oh, stop beating yourself up about that," Sadie says dismissively. "It takes some people longer to get the hang of it. Trust me, I can tell you've got power in you." I look at her curiously; it doesn't sound like she's just trying to make me feel better. She sounds sincere, sitting there squinting at me and cocking her head.

"How could you tell something like that?"

She grins. "I hosted the goddess of magic," she explains. "I can tell things like this. I can feel your form in the Duat," she tells me. "You're like a pinned-up juggernaut."

I'll admit it. That rings a smile out of me. "Thanks for that, Sadie. Speaking of which, I had this idea..."

I explain the bat thing to her. She doesn't look too enthusiastic, but when I'm done she says, "You'd have to talk to talk to Walt about that, but I suppose it might work."

"Yeah. I just want to be able to help you guys out. I mean, what if the whole world ends because I couldn't stop some bad guy from tackling you or Carter?" It must've been years since I confided in someone like this, but something about Sadie puts me at ease. "I hate the idea of, you know, being useless."

Sadie laughs. "I doubt that'll happen. Don't worry, Mari, you'll get better."

"Thanks."

We sit in silence for another second. After an awkward minute or two, she gets up and leaves. Before closing the door she looks back at me and says, "If you need to talk, I'm here, huh?"

I nod, and she closes the door.

* * *

**Can we all just agree that Drew and her friends are a bunch of bitches?**

**Please review, or I'll probably not post very many chapters. I like this story, but I have other things to be working on, and if no one's reading this I should get back to my more popular stories. Anyways, thanks for reading!**

**-amy out**


	5. Chapter 5

**You know, as much as I like getting tons of reviews, I also like only expecting a few. Like on this one if I even get two reviews I'm like, sweet, people are still reading this.**

**Lyrics from Twenty Percent Cooler by whoever.**

* * *

_"Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with your might;  
for there is no work or device or knowledge or wisdom in the grave where you are going."_  
_Ecclesiastes 9:10_

* * *

That night my mind brings me back to the place within me I've been endeavoring for so long to suppress the dark corner of my mind full of the hell locked within me. Pain covers my midriff, hips, stomach, chest. Fear flows through me in waves, punctuated by flashes of rage and anger occasionally, but the fear never fails to cover it up, suppressing it, keeping me locked in fearful compliance.

As always, the ordeal is remembered by only a blur of pain and humiliation and fear before I'm conscious of one clear detail, resonating throughout the rest of the forgotten ones -a small red necklace with a short silver chain being carefully dipped in my blood and laid on the center of my wounds. The necklace heating up painfully, starting to glow.

Levitating.

I set my eyes on the abominable thing floating above me, wishing to meet whoever had made it so I could throw it back at them. Oh please, someone, anyone, let me escape

Suddenly my brain senses an option it never has before, an option to leave this awful place before I'm forced to replay the very worst of it in my head. Gratefully I comply.

My dream shifts tacks completely. For one thing, it no longer has the fearful, awful, distorted texture the dream usually has. Instead I'm sitting in a throne-like chair, in a strange dark room with black and red tiling and one black piano in the middle.

I should be confused, but the first thing I think -and the first thing I say -is, "What the hell? This is the black room from Soul Eater!"

"'Soul eater', huh? How fitting."

I nearly jump out of my skin. I turn away to see something that kind of confuses me. One second it's that red-skinned, ugly short little gnome you see in the anime sitting on the piano, the next it's a tall red-skinned man in some sort of ridiculous disco suit leaning against it. Both versions are giving me a bored look.

"Who the hell are you?" I ask.

"My, aren't we rude," the mystery man answers without concern. "You're the one who summoned me. Who the hell are you?"

"Summon you? I didn't summon anyone!" I argue, standing up.

"Whatever you say. I still require your name, you impudent mortal, you."

"Mari," I say shortly. "Now get out of my dream." Funny, normally if I know I'm asleep I wake up immediately. This time, though, the knowledge doesn't do me any good. I might as well really be standing here talking to this crazy man. "Unless you can explain why I'm in a scene from an anime."

"Hey, it's your psyche plane. Apparently yours is not a very original one." He frowns. "But, come to think of it, you shouldn't be able to summon me, even in this infinitesimal form, especially not while sleeping. What did you say your name was?"

"Um..." All of a sudden I'm not sure I want this guy to know my name. All this talk of 'summoning' is making me uneasy. And he's giving me a very close, hard look, and I don't like the vibe I'm getting at all. I shift my eyes toward the door, standing up. "Mary. The name's Mary," I tell him, edging toward the door.

He glares at me. "No it's not."

I turn to run, yanking the door open and fleeing.

Only to fall back into the same nightmare.

* * *

I wake up the next morning more than a little shaken. Immediately I dismiss the idea that it was just some random dream. For one thing, dreams don't feel that way. My mind is nowhere near that organized, or that detailed. Besides, I can remember every single word of the conversation between me and the red troll/disco guy. Before I even begin to think about what the dream may mean, I replay the entire thing in my mind until I'm satisfied that I remember all of it.

The first thing I decide on is that the reason this exchange took place in the 'Black Room' from one of my favorite animes. In the anime "Soul Eater", the main character is infected with black blood, which causes 'madness', and sometimes he would have nightmares or be summoned into the Black Room to be confronted by a small, big-eared, ugly red troll urging him to forsake sanity and rules and embrace the madness to make himself stronger, by sitting at the piano and playing. The entire thing is a metaphor for an inner battle between chaos and order.

I smirk at myself. Disco Guy can call me unoriginal all he wants. My subconscious is an evil genius.

As for the rest of the conversation, the only things I decide are really important are that first, I was only able to enter there when I was afraid of my previous dream; second, that Disco Guy said I summoned him, and later said it wasn't normal that I had; and finally, Disco Guy himself.

As disturbing as is the idea that some Egyptian deity visited me dreaming mind, it's the only real option that makes sense. Other than, of course, that I dreamed the whole thing, but I can just feel in my gut that that's not what happened.

How the hell did my nightmare summon anything? Does being scared out of your mind make things pop out and call you impudent? This is ridiculous. I have things to do today. I can't sit here worrying about some dream.

I roll out of bed, feeling something cold and smooth roll past my exposed thigh, hearing it slink to the ground. I frown and remove the blankets, seeing what I worried at the foot of my bed.

The phantom from my nightmares, the glowing red necklace. Now looking so unthreatening, so commonplace on my floor.

I curl my lip up in disgust. Could that be the meaning of the dream? I wonder. That this necklace is like Soul's black blood -the red troll in the Black Room asking me to play a song on the madness piano?

What a senseless request. The troll kept asking Soul to play a song, saying that chaos and madness is a song that Soul had to begin to play.

As if the music ever stops.

* * *

"Hey, Walt?"

Walt jumps, shaken out of his amulet-making stupor by my voice. He's sitting alone in his room, bent over his desk, numerous amulets and charms hanging off his neck and belt. The boy is like a magical walking charm bracelet. "Mari?"

"The one and only."

"Come on in." I do, pulling out a chair and sitting down next to him without being asked. "What's going on?"

"Nothing much," I answer. "What are you doing?""

"Just working on some amulets," Walt answers, pushing the current one under a notebook. I don't comment on it. He doesn't want me to know what he's working on, more power to him.

"That's actually what I came to talk to you about." I think for a second about what the best way to phrase my question is, and decide on 'indirect'. "So,

I heard somewhere that making charms and amulets takes less magic than doing spells. Why is that?"

"Well..." Walt runs a hand through his hair, ruffling it up. "It's kind of complicated."

"Try me."

"Alright. Well, first off, you have to know what a spell is. You're basically tapping into your soul, mind, and body's energy, forcing that power to come out of you, and shaping it with your mind to suit your needs." Walt looks physically uncomfortable at the idea. This boy is such a mystery. "An amulet or charm, that's a bit different. You're still using the same kind of energy, but instead of all of it coming from you, you only use a small portion in order to craft a magical device that will mold the magic to your purpose for you."

I must be giving the mother of all blank looks, because he sighs and tries again. "Think of it this way. Say, the spell is metaphorically you hooking yourself up to a water hose and spraying the water the way you want it to go. The water is magic, the hose is your mind directing the it?"

I make a weird face at the idea of water spurting out of my body. "Got it."

"Now, let's say you're doing this in the middle of a giant waterfall, only the waterfall doesn't just go down, it goes every way imaginable. That's the Duat, the magical energy that surrounds us at all times. An amulet or charm is like making a small device that you hold in a certain way so that the water of a certain magical current flows through it, and aims itself a certain way. You following me?"

I nod.  
"It achieves the same end, but using an amulet doesn't require you to exhaust yourself every time you do it."

I keep nodding. "I think I get it. See, I had this idea..." I quickly explain the baseball bat idea to him. I can tell he thinks it's a good idea when his eyes light up.

"Mari, that's...that could work." He raises a pencil and starts shaking it through the air as he stares into space, thinking. "I'm don't think there's an Egyptian symbol for exactly that purpose, but the beauty of it is, the magic is affected by what you intend it to do. I'm not positive, but you've got a good chance."

I grin. I can't even say how eager I am to make something like that, to finally be proactive after weeks of just waiting for something to happen, some breakthrough to show itself of its own accord. I know I'll still need to learn spells and things, but it will buy me some time, and no matter what else I learn, I can't see this thing not being useful. "So can you give me some pointers?"

"Sure I can." From there Walt launches off into a long-winded speech on the finer points of amulet and charm making, most of which I couldn't follow, and then gives me a short list of scrolls and texts he thinks would be helpful. I have to swallow my disappointment when I see that I still have my work cut out for me. Still, it's gratifying that Walt even has interest vested in the idea.

As I leave to go first, invest in some breakfast, and then and only then retrieve the suggested scrolls from the library, when I'm nearly knocked on my ass by none other than timid little Cleo as she runs past me, arms full of scrolls. I half-expect her to turn around and apologize, but she doesn't spare me a second glance, rushing down the stairs like the building's on fire.

I raise an eyebrow. Well, that's a first. I don't know whether to be annoyed or congratulate her.

I go down the stairs two at a time, crashing around with the grace of a retarded elephant, as per usual. Cleo is talking rapidly, showing Carter scrolls.

"Nice one, Cleo."

She looks up, looking dazed, giving me an extremely puzzled look.

"You ran into me," I explain. "And didn't apologize. Progress."

She obviously has no idea what I'm talking about. She gives me a blank look for a few seconds before apparently deciding she doesn't care and going back to telling Carter whatever it is. I grin and sit down, helping myself to bacon, head still spinning with visions of necklaces and enchanted baseball bats, listening to the conversation without much interest.

"I know, Cleo, I know. It looks like we only have until Wednesday."

"Wednesday?!" Sadie screeched. "Why the bloody hell...?"

"Because it's being moved to a different exhibit after that," Carter replies in exasperation. "Believe me, I wasn't happy with him, either. I need to have a serious discussion with Horus about his timing."

That gets my attention. "Horus? What do you mean?"

Carter seems to need time to process I'm not insulting or challenging him, so Sadie takes over explaining. "Oh, you know how our old pal Horus lived in his head for a while? Well, sometimes gods can talk to people in dreams, and the bloody birdbrain decided just last night to let us know the scroll we need is being moved in a couple of days!"

I barely heard a thing after 'can talk to people in dreams'. I look at the table, unconsciously mouthing 'dreams'. Holy shit. Does that mean...did I really talk to a god last night? And which god? The god of disco?

I look up to see a girl with dark reddish brown hair, giving me a hard look. I glare at her. "Problem?"

She purses her lips. "You tell me, Mari."

"How do you know my name?"

"Most people learn other people's names. I'm Amity, by the way." She reaches over the table as if to shake my hand. "And I think we need to talk."

I wrinkle my nose. "I don't think we do...Amity. I have things I need to do today."

She gives me another one of her long, hard looks. This Amity person is pretty good at those. I stare her down for a minute, then decide I'd rather eat than win a staring contest. I start shoveling food into my mouth as fast as I can before jumping up to leave and start tinkering around with magical devices.

It's not until I'm at the top of the stairs that I realize I've been followed. Dammit. Amity's right behind me.

I turn around and glare, hands on my hips. "What the hell do you want?"

She pants a little, winded. "Jesus, you're fast. Look, I wasn't gonna call you out in front of everyone, but, did you have any...odd dreams last night?"

Shit. Busted. "No."

She narrows her eyes at me. "I don't like liars, Mari."

"Too damn bad, life's full of lies. Just leave me alone."

"You know, if you keep information like that to yourself, you really could be endangering us all!" she calls after me as I walk to my room.

"Well that's a chance I'll have to take." I look back to glare at her. "You need to keep your nose in your own goddamn business. If it was some kind of vital information, do you really think I wouldn't tell anyone?"

Amity cocks an eyebrow. "So you admit it was something?"

Shit fuck god dammit. "No!" I slam the door behind me. That was fucking embarrassing. Usually I'm a better liar than that. Amity seems to be good at sniffing out deceptions.

I put the entire thing out of my mind and tell myself to focus on the task at hand. Unfortunately for me, I was so scatterbrained that I went to the complete wrong place in my haste to lose Amity, and now I have to wait for her to leave. After a few minutes I quit hiding in my room and make my way to the library to get the books Walt recommended.

_Charms and Amulets_

_The Eye of Horus_

_Amulets and You_

_The Book of the Fighting Scarab_

I raise my eyebrows at the last one a little bit. 'Fighting scarab...?' It sounds like an ancient Egyptian high school basketball team. Let's go scarabs, LET'S GO!

I grin a little before bringing my stack of books to a nearby table to study. After a few second of consideration, I reach into the Duat and summon my school backpack from my room. All I have to do is close my eyes, imagine the usual hole in the air, tell myself that it's a foot-long wormhole into my room, and grab my backpack. Damn. Sadie said that a lot of what you're capable and incapable of doing has to do with what your mind can perceive and how you think about things. So I guess my understanding of the Duat is mainly credited to my interest in science fiction. Thank you, Doctor Who.

I take out a notebook, some pencils, and my history homework to do when I can't seem to focus on amulets. After a moment's hesitation, I also bring out my earphones and plug them in.

Unable to find another reason to procrastinate, I quit lollygagging and get to work.

* * *

Note to self: just because I'm listening to music, doesn't mean my studying will turn into a montage and it'll go faster.

* * *

Listening to music while I read gives me a headache. Seriously, why do I keep trying to do this:

* * *

Two, four, six, eight, who do we appreciate?

SCARABS! SCARABS! FIGHT-ING SCARABS!

Thoth, Isis, gods of late, who will win? Decide our fate!

SCARABS! SCARABS! FIGH-TING SCARAAAAAABS!

I could _so _write high school cheers.

* * *

I can't believe there's actually a way to make a charm to cure hiccups. Egyptians were obviously cool as fuck.

* * *

Hunger is not conducive to studying. Break time.

* * *

God damn lousy stupid shabti. Potato chips not allowed in the library? Kiss my ass. I'll just summon them.

* * *

"Ow! Jesus! Fine, take them!"

* * *

Library shabti are fucking metal.

* * *

So, it's a relatively uneventful studying session.

In between doodling, idly staring at the ceiling, and making a spectacle of myself, I do get some things done. For one, I finish most of my homework with relatively satisfactory answers. Also, I have a decent idea of how amulets are made and how one should go about it. It's not too complicated, and the charms I have in mind don't require any odd ingredients or to be made in the light of a full moon or any weird shit like that. I could, I guess, start working on it now...

But come on, I've been working for like, three hours. My head hurts, and I'm feeling cooped up in here. Surely I can take the rest of the day off, and work on actually making the bat tomorrow? I mean, I still have some things I need to pick up from home, and I haven't actually seen much of the city yet...

So, although I feel slightly guilty about not actually working on my project immediately, I decide to give myself the rest of the day off. I pack up my backpack and throw it back into my room via Duat. Yeah, I know I'm using the whole "summoning" thing unnecessarily often. So what? It's my one reliable skill and I want to develop it as much as I can.

I dodge Carter, Amity, and Bast and slip out of the Great Room unnoticed, putting my earphones in to jam out to Twenty Percent Cooler as I walk the twelve blocks to my old apartment building. See, this is why I love New York. In my old town, twelve blocks is across town and people you tell are all like, "Aw, do you need a ride?" Here it's just like, "Twelve blocks? That's cute. I walk twice that every day just to get to work."

_Seven colors in your hair_

_Put your boots on dear_

_'Cause we're going out there..._

I mouth along to the words as I walk, and I gotta admit, I'm in a pretty good mood. And why shouldn't I be? The sun is warm, but it's supposed to rain tonight (chalk it up to growing up in the desert, but I love the fuck out of rain). I've got some tunes. I'm finally out of that shitty little town that makes nothing but prejudice, hate, oil and meth, and in the big city that actually has interesting people. I have freaking _magical powers _and I'm on the verge of actually being able to use them for something. After I get some stuff from my house, I'll never have to go there again.

And also, the Avengers comes out today, and I already have a plan for how to see it.

* * *

When I open the door to the apartment (it supposedly locks, but all you have to do is ram it with your shoulder a little and it opens), no one else is home, but the place is an absolute dump. I'm not the pickiest, clean, neat person, but I do at least try to keep things livable. Mom, however, couldn't care less.

I make a face before going back into my room to get some stuff.

I blink when I'm greeted with the sight of completely bare walls, my bookshelf missing, my bed covered with someone else's sheets. I open my closet, and my clothes aren't in it. My shelves are filled with someone else's possessions. A guy's.

I try my damnedest to keep up my reputation as a heartless bitch, but I'd be lying if I said that my own mother throwing out my things and moving someone else in to my niche so quickly didn't hurt. I wonder if she even noticed fourteen isn't old enough to move out. I feel the same way I did in the fifth grade when I painstakingly made her a mother's day card and gave it to her before I left for school the next day, and when I came back home saw it in the trash. The same way I've felt every Christmas and birthday and Thanksgiving of my life.

If I was a healthier person I might cry right now. Instead I punch a hole in the wall. It's not like I live here anymore, anyways.

I go through the guy's sock drawers. Jackpot. The dumbass apparently keeps his money in here. $176 is mine, bitch.

I go through my mom's room, too, although I know there won't be much money. Mainly I just take the bottles of booze and needles and packets of white powder, throwing them out into the alley out of spite. Then I go through mom's jewelry and take the ring that she once told me would be mine someday. Hey, it's not my fault she was wasted at the time, and who cares if I'll never wear it? That ring originally came from my grandmother, and she never did a damn thing wrong to anyone. I want to remember that at least some people in my family weren't complete shitbags.

Besides, a promise is a promise.

I walk out the door, slamming in behind me. It doesn't close, though, instead it bounces open and I stare at the inside of my mother's shitty apartment, the world I've left behind. I stare at years of feeling unloved and abandoned, watching my world shatter around me until I couldn't even pretend I had a family anymore. I stare at more than a decade of sadness, anger, and neglect.

And I slam the door on it once again.

This time it stays shut. I turn around to walk out of the apartment building, wondering what I'll do with my new wad of cash and wait a minute, who the hell is that?

"Amity?" I ask incredulously. "What are you doing here?"

I hear an embarrassed cough, followed by Amity walking out from around the corner she was hiding behind. "Following you," she answers, very bluntly. "I was wondering why you gave everyone the slip earlier."

"Okay, for one, 'gave someone the slip' has got to be the most archaic way possible to say that I ditched someone, and for another, why the hell would you think that's okay?"

"Why the hell would you think it's okay to lie?" she counters. "And whose apartment is that?"

I scowl. "My mother's. I came by to get my emergency stash."

"I see." Ha. I guess she doesn't catch all lies. "We should be heading back to Brooklyn House."

"Well...actually..." I consider for a moment, then decide what the hell. "Look, I know we're not really friends, but..."

Amity gives me an odd look.

"I was thinking about going to see the Avengers today, and well, I'd feel like a loser going alone, so..."

Amity blinks.

Shit. "I mean, if you don't want to go, that's cool. I can always ask Cleo, she's scared of me so it's not like she'll say no."

"You're an unusual person, Mari."

"I know."

Amity sighs. "Whatever, the Avengers looks cool. Which theater?"

* * *

**I took a bit of creative licence, again, with explaining magic. I hope you'll forgive me.**

**I also hope you don't mind me ripping off an idea from an anime. Since the entire dream took place in her mind, it replicating something she's seen before sounds plausible to me. Besides, that idea is so perfect for this I can't not use it, you know?**

**Right now I really wish I could draw because I want a picture of Mari with the quote "as if the music ever stops" and "life is full of lies" really badly. Both quotes would be fantastic. Anyone willing to draw fan art? Kiley? You feelin' it?**

**Please review, it completely makes my day.**

**-amy out**


	6. Chapter 6

**Fuck yeah, Kiley drew that art for me! :3 Check it out (take out the spaces, you know the drill):**

( theamayasakarutaexperience. /apps/ photos/photo?photoid=183085312 )

* * *

_He was despised and rejected by men; a man of sorrows, _  
_and acquainted with grief; and as one from whom men _  
_hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not. _

_Isaiah 53:3_

* * *

So, the Avengers was cool. Although Amity did mention like nine times that we really should be working right now. Gee, thanks, way to ruin a perfectly nice day out. Worrywart.

Anyway, Amity didn't bring up my dream (which I still won't admit to) or the apartment, so I don't bring up her snooping around or following me. I don't even object when she insists on coming with me to a Hollister I visit on the way back, since I still have some money left and I want new boots. I can see the disapproval at the leather I select, but she doesn't say anything. When she's not accusing me of treason, I have to say Amity's pretty quiet. But she's a certain kind of quiet, not the kind people are that makes you think they're shy and don't want to speak up for fear of making someone mad, but the kind of quiet where you can tell someone's mind-gears are turning full speed. You just know they're taking everything in, thinking about it, making opinions and inferences.

At first I think it's just because she's still thinking about what's happened today, but when I watch her the next day, she's the same way during Whatever Works, and at lunch, and pretty much everywhere else I happen to see her.

I decide to steer clear. Hanging out with analytical people means you run the risk of being analyzed. No, thank you. Instead I focus on my bat project.

Insanely gifted at magic I may not be, but one thing I am is resourceful. And stubborn. Okay, that's two things, but you know. And if there is any way in hell to make this work, I'm going to find it.

I shut my bedroom door behind me and close my eyes, concentrating as I extend my hand into the Duat, groping around for my trusty Louisville slugger. As usual, summoning doesn't present a problem for me, and and the bat presents itself without any trouble.

Now, for the hard part. My first idea, and the most important one, is to charm this bat into being magic-resistant. Walt has a charm like that, and when it works right, it's supposed to make spells bounce harmlessly off of him or else not work correctly. The simpler and less powerful the spell is, the better the charm will work. However, since it's just the one tiny charm for his huge body, the effects are dilated. If I can charm my compact, yet powerful bat into doing the same thing, I could defend myself by batting spells away from me. I could finally put my softball skills to good use.

I sit down, open the book of charming symbols, and very meticulously paint the symbol for 'protect' -a trident, a circle, and what looks like a snowman's arm- with black paint on the baseball bat. Then, I hold my hand over it, close my eyes, and concentrate.

How to make charms effective vary greatly based on what you want that particular charm to do. Sometimes you need ingredients, time, to follow a very specific recipe. What I'm doing is a bit simpler, but every charm has one thing in common: when making it, you have to concentrate on what you want it to do. "Charms are really just an object that's a symbol of your will," Walt explained. "Using Egyptian symbols allow you to harness that will and use the magic of symbols, of Ma'at, to produce the magic to make that a reality."

The idea, as I've gathered it, is that you only have to use a little bit of magic to create something that will basically collect more magic, magic that's already there, and channel it into one purpose. I think charms play off the Egyptian idea that the way you think about something effects how it is. Kind of like quantum physics. I guess Egyptians really were smart.

Anyways, I envision spells, steaks of colorful light, bouncing off of my bat, the symbol I painted glowing. _N'dah, _I murmur in my mind. _Protect. _I concentrate so hard my head hurts, the symbol becoming almost painted in my head as I focus on what my bat will do when it's done. Walt advised me that it's most important to do this while the charm is in the making -in this case, while the paint is drying. I concentrate on what I want, searching within myself for that special spark, that thing that allows impossible things to happen, the fabric of the universe in a reality I'm entirely new to. And as I do that, as I find the magic within me and channel it into the mission of protection, it's like some kind of happy warm feeling in my gut and chest, and a sort of draining feeling through the rest of me, stinging in my toes a little. Suddenly it's like my perspective changes; I see the world as currents of energy, running through the patterns of the walls and carpet. I can see the energy in myself, in the wires in the wall, and I look down and see the N'dah symbol glowing orange. I guess that means it worked.

After a second all the odd sensations leave and I'm left only feeling slightly tired. Regardless, I know I'm not done yet. I have to continue with the symbols to make sure it's strong enough. And I don't know if it has a precedent or not, but I figure a couple other complimentary symbols would only help the baseball bat - charm to be even more effective.

Considering all I'm doing is painting things on a metal bat, staring at them, and then closing my eyes really tightly and concentrating, it takes a really long time and a considerable amount of energy. I won't bore you with the details, but the end result is that by dinnertime I've added two more 'protect' symbols and several tiny 'deflect' or 'reflect' symbols (technically Egyptian for 'power mirror', but it's close enough I guess), which I figure will make spells bounce off of the bat instead of just destroying it while it protects me.

Figuring there's probably not much else I can add, and there's not much space for any more symbols anyways, I take a deep breath and lean back, laying down. I have a pounding headache and I can't decide whether I want to eat an entire buffet, go to sleep, or take an aspirin. Or all three.

Charm-making takes relatively less energy than other magical tasks, but focusing so long on one thing -changing it's _essence_, especially something unconventional like a baseball bat- can still drain your energy. Still, though, if the thing works the way I hope it will, I'll be able to bat my way through the magical battlefield, maybe even deflect my enemy's spells back toward them. That would be cool as fuck. And if all else fails, I can just bash them in the head. It won't matter that, for the time being, attempting any major spell basically knocks me out cold. I can defend myself from most spells, and deal devastating blows in hand-to-hand combat.

Hopefully.

That reminds me, speaking of spells I should get started on the second part of my Bat Plan, but that will have to wait. First I need nourishment. I drag myself, being overly dramatic mainly for my own benefit, over to my minifridge, grabbing soda and a bag of cheetos for a quick caffiene-and-junk-food rush.

It helps.

A few minutes later, I'm ready for the next phase of my plan, which, thankfully, requires only a bare minimum of magic. I came prepared.

I summon my staff, and pry the cap off the top of the bat. The inside is hollow, the space small enough that the staff won't be all shaking around inside its casing. I questioned Sadie closely and she confirmed that as long as you are technically holding the staff, you don't have to be skin-to-wood touching it for it to work. There can be a layer in between. In this case, a quarter inch layer of thin metal. I place the cap of the bat back on experimentally, then get out my trusty pocket knife and begin carving a hole an inch and a half in diameter in the middle of the cap. This will allow spells to come out of the end of the bat and not fuck up my invention, without eliminating the possibility of jabbing someone in the face with the end of the bat. At this point I'm perfectly aware that this might all not even work, but in the end I'll just be out one bat, so what does it matter?

I screw the end of the bat back on tightly, then hold it around the handle experimentally. Here goes nothing. I take a deep breath, steeling myself, point the bat at something we have plenty of (e.g., the paint palette) and use the one command that always works for me: "Ha'di."

Good news? The paint palette is destroyed with no complications.

Bad news? _There is paint fucking everywhere. _

Also, my vision is fading and oh god I have to lay down I feel sick...

After a few seconds, I establish that a) My bat/staff works as far as spells are concerned; b) I need more cheetos; And c) it looks like I'm going to have an interesting wall and carpet from now on because that is special magic paint that will never come off, ever, no matter how much Clorox you reply.

After gazing at the wall for a few seconds, I decide that the splatter paint doesn't look half bad, and I'm just thankful none of it got on me...

I grab a mirror to confirm none got on me. _Thank God. _I am paint-less.

Also, I need a nap.

* * *

"Hey, Sadie?"

"What?" Sadie answers, somewhat irritably. I don't blame her. Everyone's been running around frantically the last couple of days. Apparently this artifact that Horus told Carter in his dream about, the one that we only have until Wendsday to get out hand on, is of vital cosmic importance. In fact, it may be the only way to save the world.

Notice I said, 'may be'. I'm not yet certain how reliable Brooklyn House gossip is.

_Overheard _gossip, by the way. No one would gossip with me to my face. I don't seem to be very popular here, which really is no different from any other place I've been. Just because Amity went to watch a movie with me, doesn't mean we're friends. We haven't talked at all since yesterday. And it's not like I have anyone at school I hang out with; that Drew idiot isn't stupid enough to confront me again, but apparently there's a wide array of rumors out there about me. Not that I've heard any of them. I hope it's something really crazy like that I'm a Satanic lesbian whose mom is a hooker or some crazy shit like that.

Anyways, I digress. Everyone has been running around like nothing else, trying to prepare for this coup they're trying to do to retrieve an artifact that may or may not be the only way to survive the apocalypse.

Meanwhile, I've been stuffing my staff into a baseball bat.

I wouldn't blame Sadie for blowing me off completely, but to her credit she actually listens as I explain what I've done and my request. "So," she starts when I'm done explaining, "you want me to try to attack you."

"With spells," I confirm. "It's the only way I can make sure this thing works."

"Are you sure about this?"

"Yeah. Just nothing really painful, just in case."

Sadie shakes her head. "Don't say I didn't warn you." She raises her staff and I ready my stance -not too much, because that wouldn't be how I would be standing in real life.

She seems to consider for a moment, and then shouts some nonsense I don't understand. A jet of blue light comes flying toward me.

It's faster than a softball, but not so much that I can't hit it. I swing and connect, first try, and although I haven't got much momentum built up, the spell flies away (SUCCESS!) and hits the ceiling.

We look up and see a scorch mark, hear a sizzling sound, and then it's gone.

"What spell was that?" I ask.

Sadie shrugs. "If it had hit, it would've set your legs on fire."

My mouth drops. "How's that 'not too painful'?"

"Hey, I had a water spell up next," Sadie grins. "So it looks like your bat thing worked, yes?"

I grin. "Looks like it!" I let out a whoop.

"I've never seen you grin like that," Sadie comments drily. "Usually you're scowling."

I scowl.

She laughs. "I'm glad I could help, mate, but I've got some work to do."

I nod. "Yeah, I got it. I'd offer to help, but there's absolutely shit I could do, so never mind."

When I turn the other way to leave, Sadie asks, "Where are you going?"

I grin over my shoulder. "Batting cages."

Sadie rolls her eyes. "Good luck with your ridiculous bat, Mari."

"Good luck with your elusive artifact, Sadie."

I meant for it to be a joke, but her face fell into a frown anyways.

* * *

I practice batting, then I practice casting some spells. One was considerably more fruitful than the other.

I spend most of the day forcing myself not to think about the possible Armageddon and how the only thing I've done to prepare myself for that possibility is pimp out a baseball bat.

That night is relatively uneventful. I read some anime, listen to some music, watch some TV.

Later on the night sky rocks, flashes, and shakes with a huge thunderstorm. I climb through my window, onto the flat roof only five feet beneath it, wrap my arms around my knees and sit, listening to thunder so loud it feels like the world is shaking and seeing lightning so bright it's like for a split second it's daytime. Entranced by the elements, I stay there, until the wind and rain is making me shiver so hard I'm forced to go inside and take a warm shower.

Maybe I shouldn't have.

* * *

That night, my dreams are murky, convoluted, and formless, until suddenly I slip into another one of those lucid states, where everything feels so much more real than normal.

Only this time, I'm not in the black room. I'm floating through some strange, otherworldly current.

And this time, I'm a giant chicken.

I look down at myself immediately. "What the actual fuck?"

With no answer presenting itself, I apparently just have to deal with being poultry as I sail aimlessly down the current, heading toward...what the hell is that?

When I get closer, I see that what I'm headed toward is actually the fucking _p__hone booth _from Dr. Who.

"Does this shit get any weirder?!"

"Very." It's Disco Guy again.

"Do you ever just appear in _front _of people?"

He ignores me. "So you admire storms, huh?"

"What?"

"And once again you're wearing my color." He looks at my hair, and smirks. "Is this how modern mortals worship?"

I make a face. "I only worship one God, and he sure as fuck doesn't dress like that." I look around, like maybe there's some mythical McDonalds I can go in to ditch this guy. "Who are you, anyways, my spirit guide?"

Disco Guy gives me the weirdest look. "What nonsense are you talking about? Stupid mortal."

Why the hell am I getting insulted by someone who looks like a combination of Jafar and the Kool-Aid Man?

He shakes his head. "Whatever. Just go take a look," he says, pointing at the phone booth and starting to walk away into the fog. "Ignorance ill becomes you, dear."

And he's gone.

Okay, well, at least he wasn't vague or mysterious or anything, because that shit didn't get old at all last time.

I go ahead and step into the booth, and immediately it starts twisting around and-

Suddenly I'm somewhere else altogether, watching some couple talk about something or other. The first thing I notice is a boy with dark hair, brown eyes, and the finest face you ever saw.

I mean _damn. _

Anyways, he's also the only one who can see me. "Who are you?" I ask him.

"I could ask you the same question." He looks at me dubiously. "You shouldn't be here."

"Yeah, well, fuck you too."

He gives me a very weird look before apparently deciding to ignore that. "Watch, but don't interfere."

"Okey-doke."

I drift close enough to hear what these people are saying. "Our king has grown old and weak," hisses the woman. Her eyes are dark and powerful. "Egypt needs a new pharoah!"

The man shook his head. "You will not hear me disagreeing with you, wife," he replies. "But nonetheless, Ra is our father, and the strongest of us all."

"Ra is senile," the woman scoffs. "Egypt would be ten times as powerful with you as king."

I can see the ambition and greed light up the man's eyes, and I feel definite foreboding. Still, he appears to try and talk her out of it: "Isis, we could never hope to overthrow him in battle. The others-"

For the first time, the woman called Isis smiles. "Leave that to me, husband. The others will have little to say in the matter."

* * *

** THE AVENGERS LINE I HAD TO I COULDN'T HELP MYSELF AND IF SHE HAD JUST SEEN THE MOVIE NEITHER COULD MARI. **

**Also, since in Carter and Sadie's dreams you often see them being shaped around things they've already seen (e.g., Sadie in the Hall of Ages), I think it's a safe assumption that one's mind at least on some level effects what you see when you astro-project. Therefore, when it comes to time traveling, the Doctor Who thing is totally valid. Also I think it's funny.  
**

**This has nothing to do with the chapter, but this is a tumblr post I feel positively _needs _to be shared with you guys: **

thorhead:

can you imagine ancient egyptian spelling bees though

"spell _mummified_"

"eye fish eye eye bird squiggle bird cat circle"

"are you high"

**LMAO I love that site. Speaking of which, if anyone here also tumbles, look me up, ** .com **Let's be tumblr homies.**

**Anyways, as always, I'm so glad my story amused you people, and I'd love some reviews!**

**-amy out**


	7. Chapter 7

_When new gods were chosen, the war was at the gates. _  
_Was shield or spear to be seen among the forty thousand in Israel?_  
_Judges 5:8_

* * *

When Carter and Sadie asked around for a couple volunteers to help them pull of their museum heist, I didn't raise my hand. Why bother? It's not like I could've helped much. And besides, I have other shit I need to do.

Like practice.

I've pretty much been practicing and training nonstop. On the bright side, some spells don't completely knock me on my ass anymore. On the other, it looks like there are entire branches of magic I can't even think about actually using. I can't do anything elemental, I can't heal, and although several people have told me the Path of Horus might be a good way to go (since I'm, you know, kind of..._combative_), my combat avatar refuses to maintain its shape. There are like a handful of simple spells I can do, but for some stupid reason I just _cannot _get anything else to work for me.

But whatever. The point is, Carter, Sadie, Walt, and Jaz went on their rescue-the-artifact mission, and I'm still here trying to successfully set _one damn thing _on fire.

This is just embarrassing.

* * *

That afternoon, all the kids who didn't go with Sadie and Carter sit at the dinner table, no one saying a word. Everyone is just sitting there, melancholy as they push their pie around on their plates. I guess they're all worried. Even Bast, who goes to great lengths not to appear fazed by anything, looks troubled.

I sigh, deciding it's up to me to clear the air. "Why are we all sitting here worried, anyways?"

Penguin Kid jumps. Most of the other kids give me puzzled looks. A couple even glare at me. "_Because," _one kid I don't care to learn the name of answers me rather nastily, "Sadie and Carter and Walt and Jaz are all out on a dangerous mission. Who knows what could happen?"

I roll my eyes. "Oh, come on, you guys. For one thing, Sadie and Carter are total badasses. Well, mostly Sadie. Carter's a douche. Anyways, they saved the world already from some psychotic desert/storm god- by the way, what's the deal with that? How can you be the god of deserts _and _rain? Weird. But that's not important. What I mean is, I'm pretty sure they can handle stealing some scroll!"

Bast clears her throat. "Mari, maybe you shouldn't be so flippant about gods of evil..."

"What, can he hear me?" I laugh. "What if there was thunder, like, right then, that would be scary as shit-"

"Dammit Mari!" Amity bursts out all of a sudden.

I frown at her. "What's your problem?"

"Look, we're all very impressed that you're too tough or whatever to be worried, but some of us are trying to take things seriously, and you're just making us all look bad by acting so childish. Grow up."

"Hey, it's not like us sitting here being all depressed is going to help them, but, excuse me for trying to lighten the fucking mood!" I pick up my pie. Now I'm irritated. I mean, how often do I actually take the initiative to try and socialize and be nice? And then when I do, this happens? I don't need this shit.

"Kittens, no need to argue!" Bast cuts through us, giving me an irritated look. _Why the hell is this my freaking fault?! _

"Amity, I think Mari really was just trying to help..." Penguin Kid adds.

I nod encouragingly. "See! Penguin Kid agrees with me!"

Unfortunately, as I said that, I made an unconscious gesture toward him...with my hand that was still holding the leftovers of my third helping of my cherry cheesecake pie.

We all watched as the pie, in seemingly slow motion, whipped across the room and finally landed on the face of my only current ally.

Son of a bitch.

...

Hee hee.

I fight to keep my face straight. "I-I'm sorry, um, Felix, that was an accident..." I can't keep myself from grinning. I guess it's hard to make an apology sound sincere when you're trying to keep from laughing your ass off. "Seriously, I didn't mean to-"

FWOOM.

Apparently that little snowy fucker has a shorter fuse than I thought.

"God dammit Felix!" I screech, being suddenly covered in ice. Not like in cartoons when they're encased in a solid giant ice cube, just covered in frost from head to toe and starting to shiver frantically. What's worse, is the ground around me in a five-radius is covered in slick, smooth ice, and these worn-out boots don't exactly have the best traction. "I said I was freaking sor- WHOA!"

I fell on my ass. Hard.

* * *

Well, at the risk of sounding heartless, from that point on I didn't really give two shits about Carter and Sadie and their Dangerous Fucking Magical-Asshole Robbery. For one thing, everyone else here might like to spend all their time worrying, but I happen to have a little faith in the brilliant four-man team we sent to go steal _one thing _from a museum, even the ones that are kind of giant presumptuous insufferable pricks. Anyways, the point is I took a hot shower and went the hell to sleep.

On the way back to my bedroom I ran into Bast. She gave me a look halfway between sympathetic and amused.

I growled at her.

"You may be one of my kittens, but you have the wiles of a junkyard dog," she chuckled. "And I mean that in the best possible way."

I sneer. "Yeah, well, coming from a cat I'm pretty sure being called a 'dog' is a pretty big insult." I am _so _not in the mood to be wary of godly powers or any of that shit. "Just, leave me alone, okay?"

I turn to walk away, but Bast does that really freaking unnerving cat goddess thing she does where she appears right behind you soundlessly. "What is troubling you, child?"

I scowl. "Well, right about now, it's a freaking pushy cat goddess."

I hope Bast takes the hint, but she just raises an eyebrow at me and plants herself between me and the door, obviously not about to move.

I scowl harder. "Look, I'm sick and tired of everything I do being turned around to make me look like a jerk. It's like, even if I'm trying to be nice I just screw things up and alienate people. The story of my freakin' life, no matter what I'll always be a fuckup, but whatever, I'm over that. I just want to go stuff my face and watch Netflix, is that alright with you?"

To give Bast credit, she takes the not-so-subtle hint that time, and lets me into my room without bothering me anymore.

* * *

Unnh. Fuck mornings, man.

I roll out of bed the next morning, sighing before I stand up and blearily head into the kitchen for breakfast. My eyes barely open, I hardly notice when I run into a full-grown man. For a second I think he's a pillar. "Goddamn lousy stupid space-time castle- oh, hey." I blink, trying to shake myself out of my stupor upon realization that I just ran into and started insulting an actual person. "You're not part of the castle."

The man smiles. "That I'm not." He's tall, black, okay-looking, with these cool black beads in his hair. Also he's wearing a pretty nice suit, which makes me bleakly wonder if he's, like, a magical business executive or something. Maybe he wants to offer us a timeshare plan in some distant layer of the Duat. "I don't believe we've met. My name is Amos Kane."

"Oh, yeah, Sadie's uncle! I'm Mari." I yawn. "Nice to meetcha."

Then I go get breakfast. He seems like a busy guy, anyways.

* * *

_Why the hell did Felix put a penguin in the fireplace? I'll roast that little fucker._

* * *

The following meal is probably the most depressing and nerve-wracking of my life so far, and that's saying something considering my home life. That Amos guy came down from upstairs looking totally worried and bummed, and called everyone to the table before he told us that he had some bad news. Considering that we were usually talking about a giant snake who wanted to devour the world, I took him seriously.

Things only got worse when Sadie recounted her dream. She told us about how she had astro-projected into the Hall of Ages, how some Russian jerk with crazy messed-up eyes has convinced the Chief Lector (who's basically in charge of the House of Life) has given this Russian guy permission to basically wipe us all out.

We all sat in silence for a minute. I was feeling pretty intimidated, not that I would admit it. I mean, the guy's name is _Vladimir. _We're up a guy who is literally a cartoon villain.

Felix finally spoke up. "So, we're all going to die, then?"

"No. Absolutely not." I could see the determination in Amos' eyes. "Children, I know I've just arrived. I've hardly met most of you, but I promise to do everything we can to keep you safe, This house is layered with magical protection. You have a major goddess on your side, and the Kane family to protect you. Carter and Sadie are more powerful than you might imagine, and I've battled Michel Desjardins before, if it comes to that."

People don't usually see me as very perceptive, but the truth is, when I really pay attention to things, I pick up on all kinds of stuff you wouldn't even think about. It's something you have to be good at when you've lived the kind of life I have. And the whole time Amos was talking, I was trying to pin down exactly what it was about him that made me feel like I should be wary of him. Not that he seems untrustworthy, but just like he's the kind of person you wouldn't want to cross. And I saw all of Sadie and Carter's sidelong looks at each other, which makes me think that things maybe aren't as straightforward as Amos is trying to make them sound.

"_If _it comes to that?" one girl asks anxiously. "It sounds pretty likely that they'll attack us."

Amos frowns. "Perhaps, but it troubles me that Desjardins would agree to such a foolish move."

I don't see what's so troubling about it, other than that we're screwed. Obviously the guy's just a pain in the ass. "At any rate, if Dejardins decides to come after us, he will plan it carefully. He knows the mansion will not fall easily. He can't afford to be embarrassed by the Kane family again. He'll study the problem, come up with his options, and gather his forces. It would take several days for him to prepare -time he should be using to stop Apophis."

Walt raises his finger, and as always, we all shut up. "If Desjardins _does _attack us, he'll be well prepared, with magicians who are a lot more experienced than we are. Can he get through our defenses?"

Amos looks up at the sliding glass doors in the kitchen, looking thoughtful. "We must make sure it doesn't come to that. Desjardins knows what we're attempting, and that we only have five days -well, four days, now. According to Sadie's dream, Desjardins is aware of our plan and will try to prevent it out of some kind of misguided belief that we are working for the forces of Chaos. But if we succeed, we'll have bargaining power to make Desjardins back off."

I clear my throat. "Man, what _are _we attempting? Everybody's been tiptoeing around it for days."

"Yeah," Cleo agrees. "Four days to do what?"

Amos looks at Carter, who stands up, looking grim and serious.

"We're going to wake the god Ra."

I raise an eyebrow. I'll give him credit, it takes a certain amount of badassery to pull that line off.

Call me irresponsible, but I kind of tune out the rest of the conversation. I get the gist of it: we need Ra to fight Apophis. It's going to dangerous and nigh on impossible, and even if we succeed it may not even work. Overall, pretty standard protocol for us here in Brooklyn House. And besides, even if I was paying attention, it's not like I really have much to add to this conversation and the endeavor it demands. Right now my main job is to first, scarf down this breakfast down, and then run off to the training room and learn the hell out of some good attack spells so I don't get killed when these evil guys come and try to kill us.

I'm getting ready to leave when Sadie suddenly just bursts out, "It's my birthday."

I pause, mainly because that sounds so out-of place. Penguin Kid softly sings the first line of "Happy Birthday".

"Bast said her friend won't arrive until tomorrow," Sadie explains. "Amos said it would take Desjardins some time to prepare any sort of attack. Besides I've been planning my trip to London for ages. I think I have time for _one _bloody day off before the world ends."

Carter gives her a look like she is just the most unbelievable person in existence. Personally, I think Sadie has a point. If my birthday was in the next couple of days I'd damn well want to have a party, too. I can tell Carter feels differently, though. To his credit if it was his damn bar mitzvah coming up, he still wouldn't make a big deal about it. It looks like Sadie and Carter are about to argue big-time before Amos clears his throat.

"Sadie, a visit to London is dangerous. However, if you must..." He takes a deep breath. "...then at least promise you'll be careful. I doubt Menshikov will be ready to move against us so quickly. You should be alright so long as you use no magic, and do nothing to attract attention."

"Amos!" Carter protests.

Amos gives him a harsh look. "While Sadie is gone, we will begin planning. Tomorrow morning, the two of you can begin your quest..."

I leave. I have to go get put some sweats and a T-shirt on so I can practice the hell out of that one "Weaken" spell that doesn't take too much energy, I've almost got the hang of it and it should work pretty well in combat...

* * *

One thing I wasn't ready for, is Sadie waiting for me in the hall outside my bedroom when I was done getting ready. She looks thoughtful and pensive, but obviously makes herself smile when she sees me.

"Uh, hey Sadie," I say uncertainly. "I thought you were heading to London...?"

"Oh, I am," she answers. "I just thought you might want to go with me?"

"Uh...why?"

Sadie rolls her eyes. "Well, because I thought it would be _nice. _Besides, I hardly ever see you do anything with people."

I make a face. "I don't like people."

"Quit being so antisocial."

"I _am _antisocial."

"Come on, Mari, just come along. It'll be fun, you'll love my mates Liz and Emma..."

This is so weird. I mean, yeah, I like Sadie, she's cool as hell, but I wasn't exactly expecting her to invite me along to her birthday party. "I really need to practice, though, especially if these douchebags are about to come attack us."

"Really now, do you think a few hours of practice is going to help?" she teases me. "You're starting to sound like Carter."

"Tch, fine. Just let me get dressed." I close my door again, going through my closet. Boots, jeans, red tank top with Anarchy sign, black hoodie, eyeliner.

"Calm your tits!" I yell as I hear Sadie bang on the door. "Jesus, Sadie, I'm just-"

I open the door and stop talking, seeing a scowling Carter standing there.

I blink. "What the hell do you want?"

"Are you going with Sadie to London?"

"Apparently."

"Do you really think that's a good idea?"

Well, no, I don't, but he doesn't need to know that. "Damn straight." I push past him. "What's it to you, anyways?"

He doesn't answer.

* * *

I meet with Sadie downstairs, next to the sphinx in the Great Room. She grins at me. "Ready?"

I nod.

She turns around and puts up her hand, closing her eyes. Instantly a bunch of swirling sand pops up out of nowhere.

That is so cool.

Sadie jumps through, and I follow right behind her.

Now, I've never been to any other country before. Hell, I've only ever lived in Texas my whole life before we moved to New York. So I was kind of excited about being able to see what London looks like.

Answer? Not that great.

I'm not saying the place was ugly or anything, but it doesn't look that different from some parts of New York. The sky is all cloudy and it's freaking cold as hell. The street is so deserted, it looks like a ghost town. "Lively up here, huh?"

Sadie shrugs. "We have to take the train there, yeah?"

"Why are you asking me?"

"I wasn't, I was just...oh, never mind." She brushes the sand off her clothes and starts to walk off. I follow her, and distinctly hear her mutter under her breath, "_Americans." _

We don't talk much on the ride there, which takes about thirty minutes. I spend the whole time trying to convince myself that I'm completely blown away by how British everything is, but my heart just isn't in it. Then I wonder about why exactly Sadie wanted to bring me along. We barely know each other. Maybe she feels bad for me because she thinks I'm friendless and lonely, which I am, and thinks it's her job to make me feel better, which it isn't. Or maybe Carter got to her a little more than she's letting on, and she doesn't want to to here alone. Not that it would make any sense to bring me along, anyways.

We get out of the Underground and walk a block or two. Sadie finally stops in front of a house, walking up the high porch steps. I don't say anything, but this place looks kind of...dead. The lights are off, and if I'm honest, it doesn't look like anyone's home. Besides, for some reason, this entire place is making me nervous. Like it's vaguely Twilight Zone.

Sadie knocks on the door.

No answer.

She knocks again, looking a little nervous.

Still, no one answers.

She looks at me, and I shrug.

She rummages through her pockets and pulls out a key, unlocking the door.

The whole place looks dark and completely uninhabited. We walk into the living room quietly, like for some reason we both know we have to tiptoe around. However, silence really isn't my thing, so I clear my throat. "Where are they?'

Sadie sniffs the air. "I don't know." She really looks worried now. She pulls out a cell phone with a completely dark screen, frowning at it. "Something's not right."

The front door slams shut behind us.

"Shit," I say.

A crackly voice from the top of the stairs hisses, "Welcome home, Sadie Kane."

"SHIT."

The voice laughs, and it freaks me out how scared Sadie looks. I'm forcing myself to stay calm, but that becomes seriously hard to do when we see who just greeted us.

Bird's talons for feet, gnarled and gross-looking. Long claw-like fingernails. She looks like her face has lost about thirty pounds, saggy folds of ancient-looking skin, like she's a clay figure left out in the sun for too long. Her eyes are a couple of the creepiest fucking things I've ever seen, and she looks almost bald.

I swallow_. Oh man, oh god, oh fuck, oh shit, oh man oh man oh man oh fuck..._

Sadie makes a small whimpering noise, and I have to agree. I've rarely ever been this scared in my entire life. It was even more perverse because of the nice dress she was wearing, like just to make the rest of her look even more ghastly. She walked a little closer, and we were bombarded by the smell of death.

"I've been waiting for you," said the disgusting hag. "Fortunately, I'm very patient. And look, you even brought a friend. How thoughtful."

Instinctively I open a tear into the Duat and summon my bat-staff and wand. I see Sadie trying to do the same thing, but she's unsuccessful. I try to think of something to say.

I fail spectacularly.

"Who are you?" Sadie demands. "Where are my grandparents?"

She reaches the foot of the stairs. From five feet away I can see bits of -_oh man oh fuck oh god oh man_- meat all over her dress. The smell of rot and decay is nearly overpowering.

"Don't you recognize me, dear?" The 'woman's' form flickers, and she doesn't look the same. Instead she looks like some old woman with a considerably lower ugly factor. "Sadie?" the old woman asks, sounding weakened and confused.

"Gran!"

Gran changes back into the old ugly hag, her awful face now grinning terribly. "Yes, dear. Your family is blood of the pharaohs after all- perfect hosts for the gods. Don't make me strain myself, though. Your grandmother's heart isn't what it used to be."

I grit my teeth and tighten my grip on my bat in anger. This is fucking disgusting. Whoever this hag is, she's obviously possessed the body of some poor old lady, just to get to Sadie. Who the hell _does _that? I'm not sure how useful my baseball bat and meager supply of spells would be against whoever this is, but I ready myself for a fight nonetheless.

"Leave her alone! Get out of her!" Sadie shouts.

"You creepy fucking hag!" I chime in.

The creepy fucking hag chuckles. "Oh, I can't do that. You see, Sadie Kane, some of us doubt your strength."

"Some of who- the gods?"

For a second, she looks like she has the head of a bird, bald and scaly pink with a long beak and hateful black beady eyes. Recognition goes through my mind. This isn't the first time I've seen a vulture, but it is the first time I've been afraid of one. "I don't bother the strong, Sadie Kane. In the old days, I even protected the pharaoh if he proved himself worthy. But the weak...Ah, once they fall under the shadow of my wings, I never let them go. I wait for them to die. I wait to feed. And I think, my dear, that the two of you will be my next meal."

Yep, definitely a vulture. She looks away from Sadie to grin at me, and I get overwhelmed by despair. _We're going to die,_ I think.

"I know you," Sadie says. "You're the vulture goddess. Neck-butt, is it?"

Neck-Butt snarls. "Nekhbet!"

I would laugh if I weren't so fucking terrified.

"But you're supposed to be a _good _goddess!" Sadie protests.

"Vultures are _very _good, Sadie Kane. We remove the sickly and weak. You, on the other hand, would bring back Ra, that wizened old carcass of a sun god. You would place a weak pharaoh on the throne. It goes against nature! Only the strong should live. The dead should be eaten."

"You're crazy, Neck-Butt," I tell her, trying to sound confident. "Ra is our best chance to defeat Apophis." I never did like those villain monologues they always do.

"Right. So, first, get out of my gran, and then if you're a good vulture, I'll buy you some breath mints," Sadie tells her.

I grin at Sadie, but not for long. I guess Neck-Butt isn't a great sport. She lunges for us. Sadie jumps out of the way. I jump the other way, swinging my bat toward her and hitting her in the shoulder. She howls. "You will die, Sadie Kane, and your impertinent friend, too! I will pick clean your bones. Then the other gods will see you are not worthy!"

The hopeless feeling starts to come back, but I refuse to be intimidated by a vulture-headed crazy woman.

Sadie neither, apparently. "Nice try, but I'm not going to lay down and die."

Nekhbet grins nastily. "How far the Kane family has fallen. If only your ancestors could see you now, consorting with the descendant of slaves."

"Wait, what?" I sputter. " Descendant of slaves? What are you talking about."

Nekhbet's eyes glitter, but she ignores me. "It may take time, but as I said, I'm patient. If you won't succumb, your mortal friends will be here soon. What are their names- Liz and Emma?"

Stalker.

"Leave them out of this!"

"Ah, they'll make lovely appetizers," Nekhbet taunts. "And you haven't even said hello to your dear old gramps yet."

"Where is he?!"

Nekhbet looks up. "He'll be along shortly. We vultures like to follow a nice big predator around, you know, and wait for it to do the killing."

I'm not liking the sound of this at all. We hear a crash from upstairs, and then an old man's terrified voice. "No! Noooo!" Following is one of the most awful screams I've heard before in my life.

"Wh-what?"

"Yes. Babi is waking."

"Who the fuck is Bobby?" I demand, sounding angry, but really I'm just scared shitless.

"B -A -B -I," the vulture lady snarls. "You really are quite dense."

I hear the sounds of something loud and heavy making its way toward the stairwell.

"Fuck this shit," I say, and I abscond, Sadie close behind.

"Goodbye."

"A hunt! Excellent!"

Me and Sadie run like hell across the street. The door behind us explodes. Sadie glances back and runs even faster. We race around the corner and almost literally crash into two girls holding presents.

"Sadie!" one yelps, dropping her package. "What's wrong?"

"No time! Come on!"

"We gotta get the fuck out of here!" I call back, not having stopped running for these two idiots.

"Explain later," Sadie tells them. "Now unless you'd like to be ripped apart by a god named Bobby, follow us!"


	8. Chapter 8

_Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their work: _

_If one falls down, his friend can help him up. _

_But pity the man who falls and has no one to help him up! _

_Ecclesiastes 4:9 - 10_

* * *

There's not much like being chased through the streets of London by a bird and a baboon accompanied by two complaining girls in ridiculous clothes to make you rethink your recent decisions.

"Sadie!" gasps the one in the stupid pink platform shoes she keeps _freaking _tripping all over. "Is this one of your jokes?"

"Yeah," I answer angrily, "Sadie hired a giant vulture and baboon out of the local goddamned fucking freak show to chase us for your entertainment!"

She huffs. "Well, there's no need to be sarcastic!"

"No, really, there is."

"It's no joke," Sadie cuts across us. "And for God's sake, lose those shoes!"

She looks shocked at the very idea. "You know how much these shoes cost?"

"Were they worth more than your sorry life?" I snark at her. "Because that's what's at stake, you idiotic-"

"Honestly, Sadie," the other girl interrupts me. "Where are you dragging us to?" This one, at least, was dressed comfortably enough to run.

We all stop to catch our breath behind an alley when Babi is no longer in sight, the two friends of Sadie's huffing and puffing, me peering around the corner, keeping watch.

"And who, _exactly, _is she?" Pink Cardigan asks, pointing at me.

I wave lazily. "Mari Delaney, your typical American gutter-punk. Now shut the hell up, they'll hear you!"

"Mari, these are my best mates, Liz and Emma," Sadie introduces us in between breaths. "Say hello, all."

I try and take a second to evaluate these girls, but before I really can, we all hear a hideous roar from behind.

I turn to look again, this time accompanied by the other members of our ragtag runaway squad, and immediately wish I hadn't. Barreling toward us is a baboon the size of a grizzly bear, sharp fangs bared, claws dirty, long, and lethal. But probably the most hideous thing about him is the tiny bits of human still hanging off him -a piece of red fabric around his shoulder, like the ripped remains of a sweater, and balancing precariously atop his ugly baboon nose (no offense to Khufu and all the other pleasant, non-homicidal baboons of the world), a pair of old-timey gentleman's glasses.

It disturbs me, being reminded how these monstrosities were actually people, _old _people who couldn't do anything to defend themselves.

It disturbs me even more how little I care. How easy it would be, mentally, for me to kill them if they get close enough.

It disturbs me most how little I can actually do about the situation at all.

The baboon tears apart stores around it, sniffing around, looking for us. Apparently it can't quite place us.

"Sadie," Liz asks in a small voice, "what _is _that?"

"Babi. The bloody god of baboons."

I tune them out as they chatter, having better things to think about. Don't get me wrong, I'm terrified. But fear isn't exactly new to me, and after the initial dread, I've managed to wrestle my terror down, think through the daze. The only possible thing I could do to help here is use the _Weaken _spell, but by doing that I run the risk of doing no damage and revealing our position, besides which, it could slow me down. However, given current situations, I really don't have much of a choice.

The baboon roars again, sending another thrill of adrenaline through me, demanding that I run or fight or _something, _and fight-or-flight takes over. I raise my baseball bat -thank god I haven't dropped it- and point it toward Babi, concentrating as hard as I can. _Weaken, tire. Wrdj. _(Oddly enough, it's pronounced more like "oh-leed". Don't ask me why, Egyptians are weird.

Good news? The spell works. A burst of dark, dirty red light shoots from my baseball bat, hitting Babi in the knee. He stumbles.

Bad news? I'm immediately woozy and have to lean on something; when I do, I see Babi lift his eyes and narrow them directly at me; and that is the exact second when Neck-Butt starts flying in circles over us, screeching, "Here! Here!"

"Fuck you you over sized crow!" I shout.

"Actually, two gods," Sadie finishes her explanation. "Now, unless there are any more questions- run!"

Emma kicks off the shoes, Liz throws away the present, and we take off as fast as we can after Sadie.

Have you ever been laying down for a while, and then gotten up too quickly, especially if you haven't eaten or drank much that day? And after a few steps of walking your vision will start to dim and you'll feel dizzy and woozy? That's how I felt, running away from Babi. To this day I'm still astounded that I didn't pass out.

I slow down, gritting my teeth. _Mari freaking Delaney, __you did NOT go through everything you have to be torn apart by a stinky baboon named Bobby because you had to go and fucking FAINT. I FORBID IT! _

I don't know where the strength comes from, but suddenly I feel energized, no longer on the edge of exhaustion. I pick up my pace and the four of us zigzag through alleys and streets (_just like the good ol' days_, I think wryly), jumping under tables or near walls whenever the crazy vulture lady swoops overhead. I could go on for quite a while like this -I've had enough practice at it- but I can tell everyone else is starting to tire out. We pause at a fork in the road, unsure of whether to go left or right.

I stand there, panting, as we listen to the sound of an enraged Babi tearing things apart just blocks away. There's an odd sort of medieval-looking church stationed between a tacky cosmetic's store and some place called Cafe Nero. It looks like it belongs in a completely different time than this, a completely different setting. Not that I really care at the moment, so concerned am I that I'm about to die.

"Sadie."

It's a guy's voice. I turn toward it to see a teen boy with dark hair, sad brown eyes, black jeans a T-shirt reading Dead Weather. He's quite possibly the hottest guy I've ever seen face-to-face.

However, at the moment, I simply can't see why I should give a single, solitary shit. "Who the fuck is this now?"

"This...uh...Anubis," Sadie stammers.

Very slick, Sadie, real sophisticated.

Liz doesn't do much better. "Oh- ah- hi- who- what?"

Emma seems to lose temporary control of her legs, stumbling into Sadie.

"Wow, group full of smooth fuckin' operators we got here," I note sarcastically.

The hot guy (Anubis, I guess) smiles slightly at me, like I've made a very interesting joke. I would say I think this makes him sexier but I'm really in no mood.

Sadie glares at the three of us, before turning on Anubis. "It's about time someone friendly showed up! There's a baboon and a vulture trying to kill us. Would you _please _sort them out?"

Anubis purses his lips, which I take as a resounding and possibly life-ending 'no'. "Come into my territory," he tells Sadie, motioning toward the graveyard next to the church. "We need to talk, and there isn't much time."

"No shit," I tell him. "Who are you again?"

"I already told you!" Sadie says. "He's Anubis, god of the dead and all that rubbish."

Anubis looks like he doesn't know whether to be amused or offended.

Emma is _still _having trouble with standing. (I cannot honestly be the only female here in possession of a working brain.) "Your, _um, _territory?"

"Who- ah-"

"Shh," Sadie tells them. She looks around, toward where Babi and Neck-Butt most likely are, roaring and shrieking. I shudder.

"Wait here," she tells us, and slips inside the misty graveyard.

This is odd, since although it's a pretty dreary day here in London, there hasn't been any fog elsewhere. I look closer, and this time, I can tell that the graveyard isn't really covered in fog. The fog is just a kind of illusion to cover up the way the place insists on switching back and forth between two different appearances; the one I fist saw, old-time-y Victorian church yard crumbling graves, and something...deeper. Darker.

The Duat.

I focus on that world, the one where Sadie and Anubis have slipped off into, as they take a seat on a couple of gloomy graves and start to have their little chat.

"Un. Be. Fucking. Lievable," I say under my breath. "The great and powerful Sadie freaking Kane is ditching us to make googly eyes at the god of funerals." Now memories from my childhood and more recent studying is catching up to me; apparently Anubis is usually characterized by either a dog-headed man or a young teen, the latter symbolizing the innocence of death or some crazy shit like that.

"'Great and powerful'?" Emma questions me, trying to follow my gaze. "And where did they disappear to?"

I snort. "Oh, so now the cute guy's gone, you're normal? Yeah, Sadie's pretty strong. Or so I thought."

"Could you maybe explain to us what's going on?" Liz asks me with irritation. "Because, really, we're lost."

Emma nods emphatically. I ignore them. It takes effort to stay focused on Sadie and Anubis. "Sorry, you guys, I barely know you. Sadie's the one who needs to explain it to you. _If _she ever manages to get her head out of her ass long enough to get some actual work done."

It may sound simple to stand in one spot, in plain view, while a friend of yours holds counsel with a god for a few minutes, when your enemies don't seem to know exactly where you are. That couldn't be further from the truth. The reality is, we're being _hunted. _We are prey down here, standing ineffectually out in the open as we're stalked by a predator who wants to rip us to shreds, and a decomposer who wants to devour our dead flesh. That 'weaken' spell was just about all I can hope to summon without passing out, since I'm not stupid enough to try anything bigger. And honestly I don't know what would even work if I tried it.

I reach up to scratch behind my neck- a nervous habit- when my hand brushes against something smooth. Cold.

I freeze, then look down.

My heart thumps.

The _fucking ruby goddamn necklace. _

I take deep breaths. I'm used to this thing appearing out of nowhere, but I am _definitely _not used to it appearing around my neck. I haven't worn this since...since...

I fight the urge to vomit.

I fumble frantically at the clasp in the back, trying to get it off. Liz notices, then stares at the vile thing with slight interest. "I didn't see you wearing that earlier."

"I wasn't," I snarl, finally managing to throw it off.

Liz gives me a puzzled look. "You're just going to throw it out?"

"Yeah," Emma chimes in, "it's so posh!"

"Hey, you wanna try your luck with that thing, be my guest," I sneer. What is _taking _Sadie so long? What may be the single most worrying thing about this entire situation is that, while I may have no idea what to do and no real hope of winning, I'm an _amateur. _I'm not _supposed _to know what to do. Sadie, on the other hand? Sadie is Isis' godling. She's saved the world already, and is on her way to do it again, and yet she can't even beat a couple-

"_Kane!" _an unholy voice from the sky screams at us. "_Show yourself, cowardly prey! We will tear your mortal friends to shreds, and the common-blooded excuse for a magician you brought with you! Prepare to die!"_

This, apparently, is the breaking point for Sadie's friends. They go towards where Sadie headed, trying to grab her, and I follow them.

Now, Liz and Emma might not have been able to see anything of the Duat, but I happen to actually be able to see magical things, including inside shimmery ghost mirages of English graveyards. So while they may be left blissfully ignorant, I am completely aware of the shameless kissing going on fifteen feet away.

With difficulty I keep my mouth from dropping in outrage, opting instead to tilt my head and lower my eyelids in disbelief and disgust. I mean, honestly, is this really the time?

"Yo! Sadie!" I screech. "Being hunted here!"

Sadie looks dazed, but emerges, as her dead lover-boy fades into the mist. Even as we're obviously in very mortal danger, she seems to be only half here, the other half out there in la-la land. (For fuck's sake, Anubis. Distract the only competent magician we have here? Nice. Real nice.) Luckily she at least still possesses the mental capacities required to run for her life. I see her slip a long, thin black knife into her pocket as she does so.

"There they go!" Neck-Butt screams at us as we run away. "Kill them!"

"Who was that boy?" Emma demands as we follow Sadie toward some train station. "God, he was hot."

"A god," she murmurs. "Yes."

I roll my eyes. "Damn, you've got it bad."

She doesn't even reply.

We continue fleeing for our lives. I catch a couple glimpses of a huge grin on her face, and I may be wrong, but I'm pretty sure she was humming (without a lot of good pitch) 'Happy Birthday'.

If I ever get like that, please, someone shoot me.

* * *

The London Underground is very noisy. As in, _very. _Where I come from -a small town in the Texas Panhandle- the loudest we tend to get is when the home team makes a rare touchdown. The town was so quiet and sleepy it made me want to scream, just to fill the silence. Noise is not something I'm used to.

But this place is _full _of it. Trains, musicians, British people shouting at each other, psychotic gods chasing us and screaming for our blood. You know, the usual.

To add to the noise is the wailing of sirens. Gold star for effort, but it's not like the London police could do much to help us at this point. If they were to even get here in time to try.

I have just enough time to sardonically wonder at how, even though Sadie is just as panicked as I am, I have absolutely no reservations when it comes to blindly following her as we run for our lives before we jump into the last available carriage of a train leaving _right this very second. _We let ourselves slump onto the benches, breathing heavily. I can't get myself to settle down, even after the train pulls out of the station and I see no sign of Babi or Nekhbet behind us.

"Sadie Kane," Emma gasps. "Will you _please _tell us what's going on?"

Sadie gives them a look of bewilderment and pity. I don't blame her. Liz's face is red and flushed with exertion, looking like she's just had to run a marathon with, well, with monsters chasing her. She'd thrown off the jacket she was wearing earlier, and for the first time her bright skin draw my attention to how many freckles she has.

Emma's entire outfit looks trashed. I guess it was designed for fashion, not function. She looks supremely annoyed, Liz horrified, trying to speak but unable to. I guess the shock has just gotten to her-

"That boy _kissed _you!"

Ah. So the mortals _could _see them, the whole time.

"Yeah, and while you were making goo-goo eyes at the guy, we were being hunted by Neck-Butt and Bobby," I mutter.

Sadie glares at me. "I _will _explain. Just give me a minute-"

For the first time I notice that Emma's feet look terrible, dirty and cut and scraped. They could get infected.

_Maybe I should summon her some shoes, _I think. "Say, Emma, what size shoes do you wear?"

She gives me a strange look. "...Seven?"

I close my eyes and reach into the Duat, imagining a pair of size- seven running shoes with socks. Liz and Emma both gasp audibly. I ignore them, and end up pulling out a stinky pair of boy's size eights. I sigh in disappointment. "Well, it's the best I could do. Sorry." I toss them to Emma.

Sadie gives me a look of -could it be?- jealousy. "How is it you can do that so easily?" she wonders. "I hosted the bloody goddess of magic and I still can barely..." She scrunches her eyes closed, and after a moment, her hand disappears.

Emma gasps. Liz's eyes are so wide they're almost perfect circles. Sadie manages to summon her magic bag.

"Tch, now that wasn't so hard," I comment.

"That's brilliant," Emma says. "How did you do that?"

"It's, um...magic."

Emma and Liz give her the same look I had the first day I was in Brooklyn House; the look of astonishment as you realize that everything you've been taught, everything you thought you knew about the world isn't quite as concrete as you thought it was. Sadie is staring at the contents of her magic bag, her shoulders slumped, looking absolutely drained.

A tear trickles down her nose.

Then another, and oh god she's crying.

I immediately look away awkwardly, staring out the window, because that's what you're supposed to do when someone's in pain, right? You look away and ignore it until they can pull themselves together again, so they won't be embarrassed. It's just polite.

Liz has a different approach, putting her arm around Sadie's shoulder in a kind of half-hug. "Sadie, dear, we're sorry. It's just a bit...strange, you know? Tell us what's the matter. Let us help."

Sadie takes a shaky breath, then looks at them with a hesitant, watery smile. "This will sound absolutely mad."

She then launches off into the full explanation of Egyptian magic and Egyptian gods, her and Carter fighting Set and how they're trying to awaken the sun god Ra. I spend most of the time feeling like I'm not supposed to be here and wondering what I could possibly do to help. "Hey, sorry to interrupt," I say after a few minutes (even though I'm really not), "but Sadie, where are we going?"

Sadie looks at me. "Sorry, I forgot- we're going to Waterloo Station, and then to the nearest river. It weakens gods' powers." That's all the explanation she gives me before going back to explaining things to her friends.

I watch as they take it all in, and it's fascinating. They're not skeptical or disbelieving like I know I would be. Of course, being chased through London by a pair of hideous gods who wanted to eat us would kind of make you more accepting of magic, I guess. Still, though, I can tell that the real reason they believe the story is because they've been such good friends with Sadie. They trust her.

Friendship and trust. Even if I've never had them, I can still recognize them.

"I know it sounds impossible," Sadie says when she's finished, "but-"

"Sadie, we believe you."

Sadie blinks. "You do?"

"'Course we do," Liz answers. "I've never heard you talk so seriously about anything. You- you've changed."

"It's just I'm a magician now," Sadie explains nervously. "And...and I can't believe how _stupid _that sounds."

"It does sound kind of stupid," I add in conversationally. They ignore me.

"It's more than that." Emma looks at Sadie so closely it's like she's trying to see a hidden code in her face. "You seem older. More mature."

I can hear the sadness in her voice. She's sad that her friend isn't like her anymore.

"Your boyfriend is amazing," Liz adds in, I suppose to break the tension.

"He's not my..." Sadie tries to defend.

"Jesus. If this scene gets any more heartwarming I'm gonna puke," I mutter.

"Shut up, Mari," Sadie says.

The train slows and Sadie looks out the window. "Oh, god," she groans, panic in her voice. "I meant to get off at London Bridge. I need a bridge."

"Swell," I say sarcastically. "I hope your little heart-to-heart was worth it, huh?"

"Can't we backtrack?" Liz asks, once again ignoring me.

A huge, comically timed roar from behind us answers the question for us.

"No going back," Sadie tells her. "We'll have to make it to Waterloo Bridge."

"That's half a mile from the station!" Liz objects. "What if it catches us?"

_Then we'll die, _I think, gripping my baseball bat and vowing to at least hit Babi in the nose really hard first.

Sadie pulls out her staff, coming up with a better answer. "Then I suppose we'll have to fight."

* * *

If it weren't for the desperate circumstances, I might have reserved a few seconds' thought about how cool the Waterloo Station is. Or, well, was is more like it. The main concourse is humongous, with shops and marble flooring, and a glass skylight ceiling higher up than the tallest building in my old town. It's so full of people, it's almost hard to move.

Which, obviously, is why I had no choice but to knock people over.

"Scuze us! Sorry! Outta the way, folks!" I shout as I run headlong into person after person after person.

"Hey!"

"Watch it!"

"Damn Americans!"

I swerve to avoid knocking over a small child, for once leading the way with Sadie and her friends following me. I guess that's my specialty barreling through crowds with no concern for common decency while everyone else follows in the trail.

The stairwell behind us explodes.

"Shit!" I curse, seeing Babi over my shoulder, climbing through the rubble and looking furious. I watch him long enough to note with satisfaction that he's coming toward us with a slight limp on the leg my spell hit, like it's fallen asleep and refuses to wake up, but it's only slowing him down a little. You really have to hit them on the head or mid-body to see the full effects.

Irritated grumblings and angry shouts at me turn into terrified screams and confused cries. Crowds scatter people panic, as they're known to do in situations like this one.

Adding to their terror is the dark shape overhead. "Where are you going, Sadie Kane?" Nekhbet taunts. "Would you fight by running away? You are not worthy!"

"I'm getting tired of this vulture's shit."

Babi chooses that moment to roar particularly loudly, decapitating a fancy-looking statue. I watch as a police officer tries to shoot Babi. Sadie watches in horror; Liz and Emma scream. The bullets ricochet off (_damn) _and the officer faints.

The terminal is all but deserted, panicked mortals running every which way. "Sadie, look!" Liz shouts.

Nehkbet sails along the roof of the skylight, perching atop the ceiling supports, leering down at us. "Here she is, dear! Here!"

"I wish she'd shut up," Sadie mutters.

"I wish Babi would sock her one."

"Isis was foolish to choose you!" Nehkbet yells. "I will feed on your entrails!"

"ROOOOAAAR!"

"The 8:14 train for Brighton is delayed-"

Babi looks _straight at us. _All rage, and blood, and gore. I frantically think of something, anything, anything at all I could do to stop him. Babi lumbers toward us, slowly, like he wants to prolong our terror, looking off to the side occasionally and making an odd sort of barking noise.

"Man this would be a fucked-up way to die," I comment, telling myself again not to go out without at least one solid bat to the baboon's ugly face.

Liz whimpers. "Sadie..."

"We're not going to die," she swears. "Emma, hold my staff."

"Your...oh, right." Emma takes the staff cautiously, like she thinks it may explode.

"Liz, watch the baboon. Mari..." she seems to be wracking her brains. "Maybe summon something useful?"

"Gee, thanks. I'll see what I can do." I close my eyes while Sadie does whatever it is she's trying to do. Something useful, something useful. I can rarely summon something I've never seen before, and obviously guns are useless. At least, pistols like that cop had, but if that bullet did nothing, why would a semi-automatic do any better? What we would really need is some kind of magical bullet-

"Sadie..." Liz warns.

"Oh, peachy," I say, looking at the small army of baboons Babi has summoned, all wearing black-and-silver jerseys for some freakin' reason. For some reason, it's these normal-sized baboons that take my mind back to a video on Youtube I saw years ago of a 911 call about a friend's primate losing its shit and attacking her, eating her face while she still lived, and how she nearly died and later the reconstruction of her head looked like nothing resembling a face-

I hate the idea of appearing weak, or afraid, or vulnerable, but I had a lot of trouble not turning tail and sprinting, deserting them all. I might have if it weren't for Sadie. She's six months younger than me, shorter by an inch and a half, and if she can stand her ground, dammit, so can I.

I take a deep breath. "Any solution, Sadie, or do we go out blaze of glory style?" I can feel a frantic sort of energy in me, which I recognize as magical potential, hot and angry, angry at Nekhbet and Babi and my entire life, and protesting against the idea that I could cease to be alive, and I know instinctively that I could do some damage. And if I have nothing left to lose, then fuck it, I will.

"Hold your horses, newbie," Sadie says, making a face at a vial of disgusting liquid in her hand.

"What _is _that?" Liz asks.

"Disgusting. Animation scroll blended with oil, water, and a few secret ingredients," Sadie informs us. "Came out a bit chunky, I'm afraid."

"Bummer."

"Animation?" Emma asks. "You're going to summon cartoons?"

"Hell yeah," I answer. "Kids Next Door could come in handy, don't you think? Or Sonic the Hedgehog?"

"That would be brilliant," Sadie admits. "But this is more dangerous. If I do it right, I can ingest a great deal of magic without burning myself up."

"And if you do it wrong?" Liz asks.

Sadie hands Liz and Emma amulets of Isis. "Hold on to these. When I say _Go, _run for the taxi stands. Don't stop. Mari, I'm sorry, I don't have an amulet for you."

I shrug. "You know me, Sadie, I'll be fine."

"Sadie, what on earth-"

Sadie makes a face and swallows the potion in thee gulps.

"Give up! You cannot oppose us!" Nekhbet screams from above.

Within seconds, I could tell the potion was taking effect. Sparkly blue light starts to swirl around Sadie's fingers and feet; she stands up taller and stares Babi in the eyes directly. A gold hieroglyph, one I know very well, pops up in front of her: N'dah. Protect.

Golden light rips through the station. Bottles of shampoo, conditioner, body soap, books, magazines, briefcases, phones, drinks and food and everything not nailed down (and even a few things that were) fly toward the baboons, attacking Babi. It reminds me of that one scene from _The Beauty and the Beast _where the house attacks the invaders...but I'm getting off track. A flurry of pink paper flies up toward Nekhbet, which for all her big talk is all it takes to make her come crashing down from her perch in a rush of black greasy feathers and _Financial Times _columns.

"Go!" Sadie tells us, and we don't argue. We run to the nearest exit, swinging past a baboon in battle with some Dasanis and another being assaulted by flying, malevolent phones.

We make it out onto the street, which looks predictably deserted. Looks like we'll have to walk-

"Look," Liz points out.

"Oh, well done, Sadie," Emma says.

"What? What did I do?"

"Who ordered a midget?" I ask in bewilderment.

The only guy on the otherwise empty street, there's a very short, very scruffy chauffeur standing in front of it, holding up a sign reading "KANE".

"Come on!" Emma tells us, and we race toward the limo. None of this makes any sense at all, but I've pretty much given up on the idea of life making sense several weeks ago.

Up close, the chauffeur looks even weirder. He's the shortest guy I've ever met, with one eye much larger than the other, one giant unibrow, covered in hair, warts everywhere- you get the idea. I didn't think anything could be uglier than Nekhbet, but it looks like I stand corrected.

When he sees us, he scowls. "About time!" He burps loudly. Holy hell, his breath stinks. "Bast's friend? Sadie Kane?"

"Um...possibly."

"She means, fuck yeah!" I cut across her. "No time to be picky, Sadie!"

He chuckles. "Got yourselves in some trouble?"

"We have two psychotic gods trying to kill us," Sadie says.

"Guess you'll want a bridge, then." The ugly midget turns away from us and shouts, "BOO!" Suddenly, a very snazzy black limo appears out of nowhere.

The short guy looks at us, raising an eyebrow. "Well? Hop in!"

* * *

**Little shout-out to Leo in this chapter. Cookies for you if you can find it.**

**And yay, Bes! That guy is fucking cool and I don't care what anyone says about it.**

**I really don't like having to copy the dialogue almost word-for-word from the book, but in this scene I just don't think Mari would change most of the dialogue _that _much. I hope you enjoyed what little smartassery I could sneak in, though.**

**Thanks for reading, guys, and please review!**

**-amy out**


	9. Chapter 9

_Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we  
do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit  
himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. And he who  
searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes  
for the saints according to the will of God. Romans 8:26 - 27_

* * *

The backseat of the limo reminds me of the car I drove thousands of miles in to get to New York. That is to say, messy and gross. Food wrappers, plastic bottles, dirty socks, garbage galore. I thank God (not _the gods, _God, capital G) that the small man has bought several air fresheners to stick in various places in the car. Otherwise I'm sure the limo's odor would not be altogether pleasant.

Sadie and her friends cram themselves into the backseat, leaving me no choice but to jump in the front next to Bes.

"Whoa there," he grunts, knocking a black bag off the seat before I can touch it. He motions to the seat and I sit, slamming the door behind me and thinking that my life is so, so weird.

I take a close look at our driver, finding that the longer I look at him, the uglier he gets. I'm not trying to insult him but it's just the ugly (bad-am _crash) _truth. Eyes mismatched, nose resembling some kind of vegetable, warts everywhere, and hair everywhere else.

I'm not sure what else there is to be said about this.

He floors it and I instinctively grab onto the handle on the rood of the car, surprised. For someone so short, he sure can put the pedal to the metal.

The man looks at me and grins. "Seatbelts, kid."

I smile a little, but only because I can't think of what else to do.

The limo swerves past the barricade of police and newspeople who have gathered, none of them seeming to notice us. We almost hit a telephone pole and _that _is the moment that I decide to oblige and put my seatbelt on. Meanwhile, the short guy has started whistling without a care in the world.

I glance up at the black ID dangling spastically from the rearview mirror. It shows a mug shot that looks like someone threw the camera at him and clicked by accident, with the words "Your Driver is BES".

"You're Bes, I guess?" Sadie asks.

"Yes," Bes answers.

"You're car's a mess," Liz mutters.

"The river's west," I remind him, pointing.

He gives me an odd look. "What?"

I shrug. "I just wanted to be a part of the moment."

"Is it Mr. Bes?" Sadie asks. "Lord Bes? Bes the Extremely Short?"

"Just Bes," he mutters. "One s. And no, it's not a girl's name. Call me Bessie and I'll have to kill you. As for being short, I'm the dwarf god, what do you expect?"

I kind of tune out the rest of the nonsense as we drive away. Long story short, Bast called Bes to come pick Sadie up to go and save the world and we aren't going to die quite yet.

Bes drove like a lunatic, which I appreciated. People who drive with laws in mind are kind of boring in my opinion. Also, he's a god, so puny mortal laws probably don't hold much sway over him. A few moments later he swung to a stop on top of a bridge. I hit my head on the window. "Ow! God damn it!"

Bes grins. "You'll have to ask Osiris about that."

"_What?" _

"Nothing."

"Why are we stopping here?" Emma asks from the backseat.

"It's a river," Bes replies as he shifts the gear into Park. "Good place to fight gods, if I do say so myself. All that force of nature flowing underneath our feet makes it hard to stay anchored in the mortal world."

"Peachy. So what the hell do we actually do?" I ask, turning around to face Sadie.

She doesn't look to good. Sick, overwhelmed, bits of nasty-smelling potion on her face and in her hair. I feel kind of bad for putting so much pressure on her, but what am I supposed to do? I have absolutely no idea what to do from here.

"Liz, Emma, Mari. We're getting out."

I take a deep breath, steeling myself and wiling myself no to flat-out refuse.

"Getting...out/" Liz whimpers.

"I know you're scared," Sadie tells her, "but you'll need to do exactly what I say. That goes for you, too, Mari."

I bristle up, glaring -why the hell is she singling me out?- as they open the doors. I don't see what else to do but do the same.

Bes yawns. "Need my help?"

"Um..."

"You could _help _and you've just been sitting there?" I screech. "Damn right we need your help!"

Sadie gives me an exasperated look. Bes grins. "Right. So get out."

"Huh?"

"I can't change clothes with you in the car, can I?"

"Fuck no you can't," I mutter, then think twice about it. "Uh -no offense. Don't zap me, please."

"None taken, kid. Now get out. I'll be out in a minute."

We skedaddle the hell out of there. I'm not sure if he's actually intending on changing but I'm not about to risk it. All the doors slam shut at once, tinted windows being rolled up behind us.

Sadie looks around from Liz, to Emma, to me. "We'll make our last stand here."

"Sounds like a blasty-blast," I say to myself.

"You say the weirdest things," Emma tells me.

"Yeah. I know. I'm trying to break the tension through comic relief."

"What?"

"Guys, focus!" Sadie snaps.

"Bossy." But I do listen. She starts handing out statues and chalk. "Liz, put these at the cardinal points -North, South, and so on. Emma, take the chalk. Draw a circle connecting the statues. We only have a couple of seconds."

She grimaces for a second, as if remembering something unpleasant. Then she turns to me, and I can see the resolute look in her eyes. "Mari, I know you're new, but I need you to help me protect my mates. If anything happened to them-"

"Yeah, I'll help," I answer, trying to keep my voice from shaking. "Not sure what good it'll do."

"Just having another magician inside the circle will help." Sadie turns away from us, facing the two psychotic gods who are _still _following us, a hard look in her eyes. She raises her staff and wand and I can't help but be jealous. Not even only of Sadie's magical abilities, but her courage and strength. From the stories I've heard she lost both her parents when she was, like, five, and went to live with her grandparents, and then her dad was killed last year to be host for a god -not that that's the worst home life I've ever heard or anything, but still- and she saved the world at the age of _twelve _and she's so brave. She's not hard inside, not hard to be around, not an angry bitch like me. She's strong and brave while also being kind and accepting and she has a brother and friends that love her and despite everything she's _happy _and I have never been more bitterly jealous of anyone in my entire life.

Babi's forceful stomp on the edge of the bridge brings me out of self-pity and back to reality. Sadie brings her staff down to the chalk and golden light flares up from the ground only an instant before Babi slammed into the protective force field she'd created with the force of the Incredible Fucking Hulk. I breathe a sigh of relief for a split second before I notice the damn force field isn't maintaining. It's flickering and looks more dull in the front, where Babi just hit it, than it does in the back. I don't know what to do, but in a desperate attempt I try and pour my energy into the force field, instinctively thinking, _N'dah _out of sheer habit from the hours I spent making my baseball bat-staff. The force field seems to do a bit better, but I'm caught off guard by the way the field seems to be _drawing _my energy into it, rather than just taking the amount I intended to give as the bat did. It's like dry thirsty ground in the desert of my hometown, drawing water of life from my body. I barely manage to shut off the connection without it making me weaker for my efforts.

"Whatever happens to me," Sadie tells us over her shoulder, "don't leave the circle."

"Sadie, I know that tone of voice, whatever you're planning, don't-"

"Sadie don't you fucking _dare _sacrifice yourself when the world's at stake!" I snap. "For fuck's sake, I'll go-" (Keep in mind I wasn't really thinking straight and I was light-headed from the quote-unquote 'magic' I'd just done, so don't go getting any stupid ideas about me being 'heroic' or anything. I'm not a good person; I'm strictly chaotic neutral.) "-you need to make sure they'll be okay-"

Liz meanwhile chose to expend her energy yelling unconvincing threats at Babi.

Nekhbet snarls. "You surprised us at the train station, Kane. I'll admit that was well done. And bringing us to this bridge- a good try. But we are not so weak. You don't have the strength to fight us any longer. And as for your friend, that peasant barely counts as a magician in the first place. If you cannot defend us, you have no business raising Ra."

"You should be helping me," Sadie says. "Not trying to stop me."

Babi makes a noise like a dog with a chicken bone caught in its throat.

"Indeed," Nekhbet agrees. "The strong survive without help. The weak must be killed and eaten. Which are you, child? Be honest."

"Don't listen to the creepy bird, Sadie!" I shout, risking pouring a little more magic into the force field and staggering. Liz catches me and Babi makes a noise that I think is supposed to be laughter.

Sadie looks back at me and smiles a little before turning back to the gods. "Try me. I follow the path of Isis. Cross me, and I'll destroy you."

_That's more like it._

Sadie lifts her staff. The gods step back and flicker and for a second I think Sadie's going to destroy them, but then Babi grins and my heart sinks.

"A good last effort, child. But you have nothing left. Babi, attack!"

I ready myself for a last-ditch attempt at being useful at least once before I die-

"No one's attacking anyone!" I turn around and immediately wish I hadn't. "Except me of course."

I say something under my breath. I'm not sure what it is but I know it's filthy.

I'd prefer not to go into detail. Bes came out wearing some _very revealing _underwear and the sight was unpleasant. Like, imagine every Yo Mama So Ugly joke combined, and times five.

I'm not going to go into detail. It's bad. That's all I have to say on the matter.

"It took you this long to put on a _freaking Speedo?!" _I shout.

Bes laughs proudly.

"Put on some clothes!" Sadie shouts.

"Not until they leave," Bes answers, glaring at Neck-Butt. "Or I'll be forced to scare them into the Duat."

"This is not your affair!" Nekhbet screeches, looking away. "Go away!"

"These children are under my protection!"

"I don't know you," Sadie protests. "I never met you before today."

"Nonsense. You expressly asked for my protection."

"I didn't ask for the Speedo Patrol!"

"Is this like an everyday thing now?" I ask no one in particular. "One second you're about to die and the next something completely ridiculous happens?"

"Welcome to my life," Sadie tells me.

Bes ignores us, jumping down off the limo in front of our protective circle, facing Nekhbet and Babi. I notice the back of his Speedo reads _Dwarf Pride _and I am now 234% done. Bes and Babi engage in the most absurd wrestling match I have ever seen while Nekhbet flies in circles above, contributing nothing. (Lazy.)

"Don't hurt him!" Sadie shouts. "That's my Gramps in there!"

Bes finally corners Babi and breathes on him. This apparently is the last straw. Babi's body shimmers and starts shrinking until all that's left is a stocky gray-haired man crumpling the pavement in a heap.

"Gramps!" Sadie screeches, running to him.

"He'll be fine," Bes says. He turns to Neck-Butt. "It's your turn. Now _leave."_

"I stole this body fair and square! I like it in here!"

"You asked for it." Bes rubs his hand together and-

And-

Holy fuck.

How do I even begin to describe this? It was like, the ugliness factor Bes had employed seconds ago is put to shame by his actions. His face contorts, his jaw unhinges, his gross green tongue waggles about, and he screams BOO so loud it's like a sonic boom. When it was over, only a thin old woman in a flower-patterned dress remains. She says something and collapses. Bes catches her before she can hit the ground.

The other girls run toward where Bes and Sadie are talking to her slowly-regaining consciousness grandparents, choosing instead to jump on top of Bes's limo and check out the rapidly growing group of police officers at the base of the bridge. For some reason they're just standing there talking to each other instead of shooting at us. I'll tell you what, it's a good thing this didn't happen in America because we'd sure as hell be dead if it did. Cops there don't fuck around. I know from experience.

_I can't believe I'm alive, _I think, not for the first time in my life. Deep, roiling shame rises up through me the same as it did the last times this happened. The world was crashing down on me and the only think I did to save myself was make a couple smartassed, defiant comments. _When am I ever going to be able to hold my own? _I wonder hopelessly. I'm tired of being a victim. I need to step my shit up before I get killed.

They all talk for a minute. Sadie hugs everyone. I think, _It's about time _as Bes gently drags Sadie back to the car and I climb back into the front.

We drive over the bridge, toward the barricade on the other side. Bes starts to slow down.

"What's wrong?" Sadie asks. "Can't you just dive past them invisibly?"

"It's not the mortals I'm worried about," Bes answers, pointing.

Everyone has fallen asleep. Policemen, reporters, spectators -all of them.

Standing in front of the barricades is Walt and the fucking Boy Scout poster boy, Carter. He steps toward the car and points his sword. "Let my sister go!" he yells at Bes. "Or I'll destroy you!"

"Gee, thanks," I mutter. "Way to make a girl feel wanted."

"Should I scare him?" Bes asks Sadie.

"No! I'll handle it." She opens the door and steps out of the limo. "Hello, boys. Brilliant timing."

Not wanting to be outdone, I open the top of the limo and pop up. "Yo! Way to be no help at all, assholes!" I call cheerily.

They look supremely confused. Chauvinist pigs. "You're not in danger?" Walt asks.

"Not anymore."

Carter lowers his sword slowly, looking uneasy. "You mean the ugly guy..."

"Is a friend. Bast's friend. He's also our driver."

Carter looks completely bemused and I crack up. He then sends me an icy glare. I happily flip him off.

"Driver to where?" he asks.

"Russia, of course," Sadie says. "Hop in."

We get back into the car, the boys looking at each other uncertainly before heading toward us. "That was classy as shit, Sadie," I tell her.

She grins.

* * *

As we drive through London toward wherever-it-is we're going, Carter and Sadie trade stories. Apparently Carter and Walt had some trouble getting here. Boo hoo.

I entertain myself messing with the radio until I find a good station. "This is a bunch of stupid bullshit," I mutter, going through the radio stations.

Bes grunts, flipping the vanity mirror down and pulling a CD out, handing it to me. "Oh hell yes." I practically grin my face off when I see the System of a Down symbol on it. "The god of dwarfs listens to System?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Damn right."

I slide the CD in and hit shuffle, cranking up the volume. I sing along: "WIREDWERETHEEYESOFAHORSEONAJETPILOT! ONETHATSMILEDASHEFLEWOVERTHEBAY!"

"Would you turn that down?" Carter asks with irritation. What a little bitch. I pretend no to hear him. "Hiiis, his remooorse, was that he couldn't survey the SKYYY-"

"Mari-"

"RIGHT BEFOoOoORE-"

"Unbelievable-"

"IT TURNED GREY, THE SKYyYyYyY-"

Bes is laughing so hard he can barely drive. I continue ignoring Carter by aggressively singing SOAD lyrics at him until he looks very much extremely annoyed with me.

Sadie reaches up and smacks me on the top of the head. I can no longer take it and just start laughing my ass off.

Walt reaches forward and turns it down considerably.

"_Thank_ you, Walt," Carter says irritably. I grin at him wickedly.

Walt looks away uncomfortably. "'s no problem..."

I snicker.

I see Sadie frown in the rearview mirror. "Where are we going? All the best artifacts are at the British museum."

"Yeah," Bes answers. "And the other magicians know that."

"Other magicians?" Carter asks.

"Kid, the House of Life branches all over the world. London is the Ninth Nome. With that stunt you just pulled at Waterloo, Miss Sadie and Miss Delaney just sent up a big flare saying 'Here I am'! You can bet they're going to be hunting you now. They'll be covering the museum in case you make a run for it. Fortunately, I know a different place we can open a portal."

We ride the rest of the ride in silence, except for me occaisionally bursting out into System of a Down lyrics for the sole purpose of getting on Carter's nerves. I spend most of the time thinking about what a failure I am and wishing for a cheeseburger.

Bes drives us into a park, jumped the curb, and drives over a Please Keep off Grass sign.

"I like your style," I say.

"Thanks."

"Where are we going?" Carter asks.

"Watch and learn, kid," Bes replies as he drives straight up a hill. I look out the window. You can see the whole city from here.

I notice a pair of sphinxes at the bottom of the staircase, apparently at the same time Carter does. "Those aren't real," he tells us.

"Nah, Carter, they're a figure of our imaginations," I retort.

"I mean they aren't from ancient Egypt. They're not old enough."

_Why is it that every single thing this guy says bugs the shit out of me?_ I wonder.

"Picky, picky," Bes tells him. These are the stairs to the Crystal Palace. Big glass-and-steel exhibit hall the size of a cathedral used to sit right here on this hill."

"I read something about that in school. Queen Victoria had a party there or something," Sadie says.

"A party or something?" Bes grunts. "It was the Grand Exhibition in 1851. Showcase of British Imperial Might, et cetera. They had good candied apples."

"Dudes, what's with the history lesson?" I interrupt. "Aren't we kind of on a time-sensitive mission here?"

"She's right," Carter says, and I double-take so fast I get a crick in my neck. (Which, by the way, is also completely his fault.) "How is this going to help us open a portal?"

Bes grins. "Every great empire is a wannabe Egypt. Having Egyptian stuff around makes them feel important. They're built to play up the connection between the British Empire and the Egyptian Empire. So yeah, they channel magic. Especially when _I'm _driving. And now..." He looks over his shoulder at Walt. "It's probably time for you to get out."

I blink. Sure wasn't expecting that. "Why?" I ask. "We need all the help we can get."

"Yeah, why can't Walt come with us?" Sadie asks. "He's a magician. He can help."

"Walt, you haven't told them?"

"Told us what?" Sadie demands.

Walt clutches his amulets, looking pained. "It's nothing. Really. It's just...I should help out at Brooklyn House. And Jaz thought-"

He stops. I sigh. _Now you done it._

"Yes?" Sadie asks, her tone very icy. "How's Jaz doing?"

"She's -she's still in a coma," Walt stutters. "Amos says she'll probably make it, but that's not what I-"

"Good," Sadie says. "Glad she'll get better. So you need to get back, then. That's brilliant. Off you go. _Anubis _said we should hurry."

I wince. Ouch. Sadie can be downright catty when she wants to be. Walt looks totally hurt. "It's not that I want to back," he protests.

"But you can't go with us," Bes says firmly. "Go on, kid. It's fine."

Walt gets something out of his pocket. "Sadie, about your birthday...you, um, probably don't want any more presents. It's not a magic knife, but I made this for you."

He puts a golden necklace into her hand and I feel another twinge of jealousy. How come _I _don't get a hot guy who makes me jewelry for my birthday? But no. Instead I get that lunatic ruby thing that follows me everywhere. Maybe being left on a different continent will make it lose my scent. Maybe.

"But...I kind of lost my nerve," Walt's saying as I come back from spacing out.

Sadie stares, wide-eyed, at the trinket. "Walt, I don't -I mean, thank you, but-"

"Just remember that I didn't want to leave," he says. "If you need help, I'll be there for you." He glances at Carter and me. "I mean both of you. All of you. I'll be there for all of you if you need it. That's what I meant."

I grin. "Sure you did," I tease.

"But now," Bes interrupts, "You need to go."

"Happy birthday, Sadie," Walt says. "And good luck."

He walks down the hill, looking totally forlorn. Poor guy.

"Two birthday gifts," Sadie mutters. "From two gorgeous guys. I hate my life."

I decide to lighten the mood. "It's rainin' men, hallelujah..."

Carter glares at me. "Shouldn't _she _leave, too?"

"What?" I ask.

"She can't really do a lot of magic. Sorry, but-" he sure as hell doesn't look sorry- "It's probably better if you go."

I give him a dirty look. What a dick. I mean, he's right, of course, I've been totally useless this entire time, but still.

Bes shrugs. "It's up to you. Personally I think you can use all the help you can get. This one's got some nerve."

Sadie gives Carter one of those meaningful sibling looks that makes me feel like I could spend a hundred years with them and never get any closer to understanding what they mean. "She helped me fight Babi and Nekhbet. She can stay if she wants."

Carter and Bes look at me. I feel torn.

Honestly, I'm not one to run from a fight. Not at all. But after all of that, how could I _not _consider running? I really don't know very much magic. I could be killed.

I imagine how I'd feel if I left, and then later found out Carter or Sadie died and had to wonder if I might've been able to save them. "I'm staying."

Carter rolls his eyes. Bes nods his approval, kicking the limo back into gear.

"Next stop, Russia."

Bes floors the gas and seconds later the Mercades is hurtling into a swirling vortex of sand.

* * *

**Sorry this took so long, guys. School just started, and I really, really hate re-writing scenes from Rick's book. Hopefully from now on I won't have to copy to strictly.**

**I was kind of disappointed with the number of reviews the last chapter got. Review? Please?**

**Anyways, thanks for reading!**

**-amy out**


	10. Chapter 10

**Yayyyyy I'm back!**

**You ought to thank my friend Kiley for this. We trade fanfictions back and forth in fourth period when we should be working, and it really motivates me to develop some new material.**

**I hate writing fiction that takes during canon with the fire of a thousand suns.**

* * *

_The wise are cautious and avoid danger; _

_fools plunge ahead with great confidence._

_Proverbs 14: 16_

* * *

I'm not exactly the most delicate person in the world, but that doesn't stop me from wondering if Bes might've been able to land the car a bit more gracefully.

We slam to the ground so hard that my head bangs against the window, making it throb nastily. Sadie groans and Carter looks similarly shaken. I notice several dark shapes scurrying away from the car, then turning around to shout angrily at us in Russian.

"Can't we go anywhere _gently?" _Sadie complains.

Bes declines to answer, activating the window wipers to clear off the small amount of snow that has _already _managed to accumulate on the windshield. I inwardly groan, suppressing a preemptive shiver. I'm wearing a _tanktop. _I grew up in _Texas. _I can handle ninety-five-degrees-in-the-shade weather; I don't do so well in subzero temperatures. In other words, I hate cold and cold hates me and I _really _wish I'd grabbed a hoodie or something before we left.

Anyways, I'm sure the architecture of the Russian town we landed in might be interesting to some people, but it's not interesting to me. I'm more focused on the group of pierced, punk-ass teenagers banging on the Mercades. Really I can't blame them. If I were in their position I'd be pretty pissed, too.

"They can see us?" Sadie asks Bes.

"Russians," Bes says gruffly. "Very superstitious people. They tend to see magic for what it is. We'll have to be careful around here."

"You've been here before?" Carter asks.

One of the Russian kids start banging on my window, yelling things at me. I flip him off enthusiastically.

"Are those authentic?" Carter asks. (He would.)

"Farthest-north Egyptian artifacts in the world," Bes answers. "Pillaged from Thebes and brought up here to decorate Russia's new imperial city..."

"Fascinating," I say under my breath. Really, how the hell does Carter stay interested in these kinds of things when there's so much other shit going on -like, say, angry Russians breaking bottles on the hood of the car.

"Um," Sadie says, eyeing a particularly nasty-looking guy, "should we move?'"

"Nah. Russian kids always hang out by the sphinxes. Been doing it for hundreds of years."

"But it's like midnight here," Carter says. "And it's snowing."

"Did I mention they're Russian? Don't worry. I'll take care of it." Bes opens the car door and steps out. We tells the kids something in Russian and then roars loudly. The punks screamed and ran like hell.

By the time Bes gets back into the car, he's suddenly bundled up in full jacket, boots, and mittens. "See? Superstitious. They know to run from a god when they see one."

A bust of cold air hits me and I shiver loudly, goosebumps raising on my arms. Oh, no, I do not like Russia.

"What do we do now?" Sadie asks.

Bes points across a river at a castle that seemed to be golden and glowing. "That's the Hermitage."

"Hermits live there?" Sadie asks.

"No. I've heard of it," Carter answers. (Of course you have, Carter. _Of course you have.) _"It was the tsar's palace. Now it's a museum. Best Egyptian collection in Russia."

"Dad took you there, I suppose?" Sadie asks. I'm surprised to hear just a little bitterness in her voice.

"We never went," Carter replies, sounding defensive. "Dad got invited to speak there once, but he declined."

Bes laughs. "Your dad was smart. Russian magicians don't exactly welcome outsiders. They defend their territory fiercely."

Sadie stares at the palace, wide-eyed. "You mean the headquarters to the Eighteenth Nome is _inside _the museum?"

"Somewhere, but it's hidden with magic, because I've never found the entrance."

"Wait a second," I cut in. "You're a _god. _How could you not find the entrance?"

Bes snorts. "How do _you_ think I would find it?"

I shrug. "I don't know, just kind of...sense it?"

"I'm the god of dwarfs, kid. I scare people off, protect kids. Magic isn't my specialty."

I frown, mulling over it. The more I find out about gods, the less, well, _godly _they seem, and more just like your run-of-the-mill powerful creatures. I wonder...

"Anyways, I've heard it would take eleven days just to tour the whole place."

"But unless we wake Ra, the world ends in four days," Carter says.

"Three days now," Sadie corrects him, "if it's after midnight."

Carter grimaces. "Thanks for the reminder."

"So take the abbreviated tour," Bes says. "Start with the Egyptian section. Ground floor, main museum."

"Aren't you coming with is?" Carter asks.

"He can't, can he?" Sadie asks. "Like Bast couldn't enter Desjardins' house in Paris. The magicians charm their headquarters against the gods. Isn't that right?"

Bes makes a face. "I'll walk you down to the bridge, but I can't go any further. If I cross the River Neva too close to Hermitage, I'll set off all kinds of alarms. You three will have to sneak inside somehow-"

"Breaking into a museum at night," Sadie mutters. "We've had such good luck with that.

"-and find the entrance to the Eighteenth Nome. And don't get captured alive."

I feel a thrill of foreboding.

"What do you mean?" Carter asks. "It's better to be captured dead?"

The look in Bes's eyes is dark, and I think I know exactly what he means. "Just trust me. You don't want to be Mekinshov's prisoner." He opens the door and steps out, motioning for us to follow. "Come on,_ malishi_," he says. "I'll walk you to the Dvortovyy Bridge."

The walk to the bridge is probably the longest and coldest of my life. Even through the warm parka Bes conjured up for us, I'm shivering so much I'd be surprised if they can't hear it. It makes me wish for the sweltering 110 degree summer nights of the Texas Panhandle. Meanwhile, Bes seems to think it's cool to stop every couple of seconds to point out some Russian landmark I don't give a damn about. "Man, this shit is straight up subarctic," I say. "Seriously, it's like chilling-with-the-penguins, colder than a witch's tit, goddamn _freezing."_

"Can you not?" Carter asks snappishly. "We get it, it's cold."

"Nah son. You _don't _get it. I'm used to Texas weather. My system's about to go into shock from this damn climate."

"Yes, I think we've rather established that it's cold here," Sadie cuts across us.

Bes stops, staring up at a giant palace. It had yellow walls and a green roof, but it didn't look cheery. Silhouetted against the strangely bright snowing sky, it looked like a vision from a dream, half-remembered over a bleary breakfast.

"Prince Menshikov's palace," Bes spits, glaring at the palace like it's just insulted midgets everywhere. Sadie gives Carter a questioning look, to which Carter just shrugs.

"You mean Menshikov as in Vlad the Inhaler?" Carter asks Bes.

"He's a descendant._ Ublyudok. _Back in the seventeen hundreds, Prince Menkishov threw a party for Peter the Great -the tsar who built this city. Peter_ loved_ dwarves. He was a lot like the Egyptians that way. Her thought we were good luck, so he always kept some of his in his court. Anyway, Menkishov wanted to entertain the tsar, so the thought it would be funny to stage a dwarf wedding...he forced _us _to dress up, pretend to get married, and dance around. All the big folk were laughing, jeering..." The bitterness in his voice is tangible.

"What a dick," I mutter.

Sadie is slightly more comforting in her reaction, laying a hand on Bes's shoulder sympathetically. "I'm sorry, Bes. Must have been awful."

Bes frowns. "Russian magicians...the love capturing gods, using us. I can still hear that wedding music, and the tsar laughing..."

"How did you get away?" Carter asks.

Bes doesn't answer. "Enough of this. We're wasting time."

I obliged to shut the hell up for the rest of the walk until we get to the bridge, staring at the now-eerie looking tsar's palace. "I'll take the Mercades the long way around," Bes says, me spacing out, mesmerized by the palace's glow. "Down to the next bridge, and circle south of the Hermitage. I'll be at the chocolate museum."

That got my attention.

"The _what _now?" Carter asks.

"Well, it's not really a museum. More of a shop -closed this time of night, but the owner always opens up for me. They've got chocolate everything -chess sets, lions, Vladimir Lenin heads-"

"The communist guy?"

"Tes, Professor Brilliant." I smirk. "The communist guy, in _chocolate." _

"So let me get this straight," Sadie says. "We break into a heavily guarded Russian national museum, find the magician's secret headquarters, find a dangerous scroll, and escape. Meanwhile, you will be eating chocolate."

Bes clearly sees nothing wrong with this. "It's a good plan. It might work. If something happens and I can't meet you at the Chocolate Museum, our exit point is the Egyptian Bridge, to the south at the Fontanka River. Just turn on the-"

"Enough," Sadie interrupts. "You will meet us at the chocolate shop. And you _will_ provide me with a takeaway bag."

"Me too!" I add.

"That is final. Now go!"

Bes grins. "You're okay, girl."

He starts for the Mercades.

I look at Carter, who's staring at the palace. "Are we in as much trouble as I think?"

"More," Sadie responds. "Let's go crash the tsar's palace, shall we?"

"Thought you'd never ask," I reply, leading the way over the bridge.

* * *

I give the word 'useless' a whole new meaning as Carter and Sadie conspire together, jotting down figures on a piece of papyrus and bickering about which spell to use and closing their eyes to summon godly powers, my contribution to the whole thing being shivering and feeling sorry for myself.

After a few moments, Sadie cuts her eyes toward me. "Better brace yourself, love."

I don't even have time to tell her to _never _call me 'love' again before the entire world starts to shimmer out of focus. My feet and arms tingle and my stomach flips over itself as the world I've always known fades seamlessly into a vague, shimmery gray nothing. I feel the same sense of unreality I did when I first walked into Brooklyn House and saw it had the outward-appearance-to-inward-square-footage ratio of the TARDIS- vulnerable and temporary, knowing reality as I know it is as thin and disposable as a layer of shrink-wrap.

"Is this.." I breathe.

"The Duat," Carter confirms casually, but he doesn't _look _casual. He's looking at me closely, watching. It's not malicious, but it's the look of a predator -a wolf maybe- sizing up a new member of the pack to see if it's worthy. It's the look of a general waiting to see how a newbie soldier reacts to the fray.

I adopt a mask of unconcern. "Cheery place, isn't it?"

Sadie chuckles darkly. Carter smirks as he turns to lead the way toward the tsar's palace, but just before he does, I see something else in his eyes. Amusement? No, that's not it. It was...contentment. Approval. Carter feels I've passed some kind of test. He's _proud _of me, the rookie kid with a temper who keeps giving him lip. The newbie who isn't scared of the Duat. He _approves _of my reaction.

And oh, boy, do I _hate_ him for it.

Carter isn't a bad person. He isn't any worse than irritating (and that's only in retaliation to me) but I can swiftly feel myself growing to deeply dislike him. Bossy, superior, arrogant, goody-goody, annoyingly insistent on following any and all rules. After I do something subversive, there's a half-second before he gets angry when he just looks confused, bewildered. Almost like he's _threatened _by the idea of not being an obedient little sheep.

It makes me sick on a personal level.

And now he has the freaking _nerve _to feel _approval _for something I've done? to take a look at my progress and think, "Well done"?!

I sneer at him while they're both facing away from me, whispering about things they don't want me to hear. I have to admit a large part of it has got to be jealousy, but the resentment runs deeper than that. I've learned to be leery of people, to let them think I'm dumb or oblivious, and then watch and analyze them for potential threats or ways to exploit them. I watch a person until I can guess what they'll do next, what they want to do, how they think. And the more I watch and analyze Carter, the more detestable and irritating things I notice about him, and the deeper my dislike grows.

After all, only a coward doesn't have any enemies. And if I'm going to have a rival, well, it may as well be someone powerful.

Anyhow, for all my bravado, I'm very happy when the mortal world re-forms around us. I take a good look at all the Egyptian exhibits around me, trying to be impressed and failing. I'm nervous, tired, and ready to just get this stupid scroll without being chased by another couple of psychotic monsters. I watch Carter and Sadie closely as they look throughout the room, pawing and investigating the exhibits.

Sadie pulls her staff out of nowhere and makes a camera explode effortlessly. I decide that magically screwing with electronics might be a very useful skill to have.

I hear Carter rummaging around and glance over to see him fiddling with a black handkerchief and a wax doll. "_I'mun_," he says, and some hieroglyph featuring a kneeling Egyptian glows over it in electric blue. I wonder why Carter and Sadie's magic is almost always in a blue-based color; Carter's is almost always a shade of blue, while Sadie's range is slightly larger, from turquoise to indigo to an occasional random burst of white or gold. From what Walt told me, the color probably reflects the mental energy of the user. I wonder what it means that my spells range from orange to violet, but always on the red end of the color spectrum. Black shows up now and again, like an afterthought. I wonder if I'm just reading too much into this.

A shimmery cloud of darkness, like a translucent cloud, rises from Carter's wax thingy and covers the three of us. Sadie smiles. "You got it right this time!"

"Got what right?" I ask.

"Invisibility spell. When did you manage it?" she asks Carter.

I could swear Carter's face goes red. Probably embarrassed that a spell could give him trouble. "Actually I'm still...working on it," he finishes apologetically as a group of wayward sparks pops out of the cloud briefly."

"Great," I mutter. "Because random flying sparks is _so _incognito."

Sadie sighs. "Still, better than the last time. The cloud looked like a lava lamp. And the time before, when it smelled like rotten eggs-"

"Could we just get going?" Carter cuts her off, sounding irritated. "Where should we start?"

Sadie stares at one display, starting to walk toward it. "Sadie?" Carter follows her uncertainly, me trailing behind him. He looks down at the statue and reads, "From the tomb of scribe Ipi. Worked at the court of King Tut. Why are you interested...oh."

I look from him to the statue, but I can't see what's so 'oh' about it. It's just a typical statue depicting some weird god who's half canine, which as far as I can tell is pretty standard for Egyptian deities.

"Walt likes you."

I give Carter possibly the weirdest look of my career, but he's not looking at me. He's staring at Sadie.

"Carter, you have no idea what you're talking about." Sadie's voice sounds hard. I feel distinctly uncomfortable.

"You're not giving the guy a chance," Carter accuses her. "Whatever's going on with him, it's got nothing to do with you."

I clear my throat loudly, hoping he'll take the hint. This sounds like the kind of brother-sister conversation that is really none of my business. Sadie's love life is not something I want to hear about.

Sadie glances at me, giving Carter a pointed look as if to say _Shut up, there's another person, remember? _Carter looks at me and has the decency to look slightly embarrassed. "For your information," Sadie tells him coolly, "I wasn't looking at this stone because of Anubis."

"You weren't?"

Finally a lightbulb goes off in my head. "Ohhhhhhhhhhh," I say softly, none too quickly. It's a statue of Anubis, the hot guy from the graveyard. I see. I get it now. Geez, I feel dumb...

Sadie ignores me. "No. Contrary to what you think, I don't spend every waking hour thinking about boys."

"Just most waking hours?"

I snort. "Like you're anyone to talk," I snark at Carter. "How much time this week have you spent mooning over your AWOL girlfriend, Carter?"

I seriously think he's going to smack me. I smile sweetly. _Do something. Say some shit. I dare you._

"What I meant was," Sadie cuts in hurriedly, obviously trying to stop any more arguing from going down. "The gravestone. It's, uh, got a border around it. Like a window, or a door. It, um, it's kind of..."

Carter's still glaring at me while I smile sarcastically back. We both refuse to blink. I wonder if this is going to turn into an official staring contest or what.

Sadie snaps in the middle of our faces, breaking the spell. "Hey! Cut it out you two, this is serious!" she snaps, glaring at both of us in turn.

Carter, with what looks like massive effort, turns away from me to face his sister. "You were saying?"

"This bloke Ipi was a scribe, which is another word for magician. He could've been one of us."

"So?" Carter asks grumpily.

"So maybe that's why the stone is _glowing, _Carter. What if this false door's not false?"

Me and Carter turn to look at the stone in synch. I frown. It absolutely is _not _glowing. I give Sadie a dubious look. She reaches forward and pokes the stone with her wand. _"W'peh." _I know that one: Open. To my surprise, a golden hieroglyph pops out against the grave marker, then shoots out a golden beam of light. Out of nowhere, a full-size doorway of light pops up in front of us, a vague outline of another room showing through it.

Carter gives Sadie a look of amazement. "How'd you do that? You've never been able to do that before."

Sadie shrugs nonchalantly, but I can tell she's totally proud of herself. "I wasn't thirteen before. Maybe that's it."

"But I'm fourteen! And I _still _can't do that!"

"Girls mature earlier," Sadie says smugly.

Carter grinds his teeth.

"Sucks to suck," I tell him.

For the first time, Carter gives me a look that could qualify as 'nasty'. "Like you're anyone to talk. How much time did you spend this week trying to master a simple command spell?" My face goes bright red.

_"Carter!"_ Sadie snaps.

Oh, yeah, I _really _don't like this guy. Sparks of animosity fly between us. No, literally. Carter's invisibility (_bullshit_) is acting up again.

Sadie elbows him in the gut. "Quit it with the stare downs, you'll blow our cover! Now _move!_" She elbows him again when he doesn't move yet.

Finally he looks away from me, leading the way into the abyss. I gulp down my resentment and follow, summoning my bat once again from the Duat.

* * *

_malishi = _Russian for 'toddler' (aw)

_ublyudok_ = Russian for 'bastard'

**This is slightly short, but it's either stop here or keep going for a few thousand more words (I usually set myself at 4000 - 5000 per chapter) and I'm about to get kicked off the school computers to go to drama practice. FYI into the world of Amy, my part is a ridiculously obnoxious French hostess and my accent is suitably absurd. The hardest part is going to be keeping a straight face while the audience loses their shit over it. Ugh.**

**Also, I just kind of wanted to say this: Mari hates Carter. I don't. I'm trying to keep him in character as much as I possibly can while still showing the parts of his personality that might clash with Mari's. But really Carter is awesome. He reminds me of Fin from Adventure Time. But I'm getting off topic. The point is, please don't accuse me of Carter hate. That's not what's goin' on here.**

**But on that note: do you think I'm keeping all of the canon people in character? I'm actually taking this fic seriously, so it's important to me.**

**Anyways, please review!**

**-amy out**


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